They Hit the Heights
by delphiki
Summary: "Your endless ball breaking aside, those few months, they hit the heights for me." What happened to bring Susan and Homer together? This story takes the couple from their daring escape to their decision to get married. We meet William Goodnight and find out how he died. Susan X Homer, Caitlin X Matthew, Homer X Rose X Susan (for later chapters)
1. Chapter 1

Writer's note: For two such intense characters as Susan and Homer, "the heights" must have been pretty spectacular indeed. This is one way the story might have played out. For Susan especially, (who alas, got too little screen time) she is so strong, defiant, _fearless_, but are there cracks in her armor?

They start out as Caitlin and Matthew, and since they take on a few aliases, to avoid confusion, I refer to them as Caitlin and Matthew throughout.

This is my first attempt at writing prose, and of course, my first crack at fan fiction. You can thank (or blame!) Richard Warlow for writing such interesting characters, that I couldn't get them out of my head even after the series ended. Please let me know how you like it, and how the story could be improved. Thank you for reading!

There was a terrible crash in the room where Theodore and his daughter, Caitlin Swift, were having dinner. In an adjoining room, Matthew Judge, a Pinkerton detective assigned to protect the girl, was as usual, losing badly at poker with the boys. He jumped up in time to see Caitlin running up the stairs in tears. Swift bellowed, "Frank, get somebody in here to clean up this mess!"

There was a great commotion, with nervous servants running back and forth. In the chaos Matthew slipped up the stairs after Caitlin, though he was unsure of what he could possibly do. He heard her scream at her maid to leave the room and slammed the door. The house got very quiet. Matthew nodded to the maid to reassure her that it was all right to go.

Up to this point, every encounter he'd had with her was less like a genteel conversation, more like a verbal prizefight. She was a pain in the ass, hardly worth the trouble, but he had to admit, she was interesting. Not a woman given to tears though. He'd best tread carefully.

He knocked on the door. "It's Matthew." He waited a long time, but at last the knob turned and the door opened. Caitlin wasn't crying anymore, but her face was still red with anger. He stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

"You shouldn't be in here." She paced restlessly, tearing away at the lace on the cuff of her gown. He noticed she'd flung the bedding and pillows off the bed and that she had cleared off the vanity with some violence. There were powders and broken glass perfume bottles strewn with lace and pearls across the floor. "What do you want?"

"Was there something wrong with the family china?"

She glared at him, then seemed to lose the strength that anger gave her, and she sat down on the unmade bed. "He is forcing me to marry Henry Whitworth-Sudbury."

"The import-export guy?" Henry Whitworth-Sudbury was a wealthy man in his middle sixties, tall and taciturn, with a reputation for cut-throat negotiation where business was concerned. He had buried two wives already, and was in the market for a third. "I don't get it. You're of age, right? He can't very well force you to marry anyone."

"Nevertheless, he is determined. I'm a thorn in his side. I've developed quite a reputation in society." They shared a smile, which broke some of the tension. "I've offended a few too many of his business associates who made the foolish mistake of flattery and fawning to impress me. It has become a joke, people laugh at him behind his back. Who wants to do business with a man who can't control his own daughter? A year ago he gave me an ultimatum. If I refused to entertain any of his suitors and sycophants by my twenty-seventh birthday, then he would choose a husband for me."

"And I guess that day has passed?"

She went out onto the veranda. "He means to announce our engagement on Saturday at his big party."

"So? Refuse. What can he do to you?"

She looked him in the eye. "He has threatened to have me committed."

"What? He can't do that!"

"It's how he got rid of my mother."

She sat on a bench under an umbrella, and indicated for Matthew to sit. "When I was eleven years old, my mother had an affair. My father traveled a lot, he was often gone for months at a time. She was lonely. She took up with this man. I remember he was handsome. To me he seemed kind and gentle, nothing like my father. He made her laugh. Anyway, he was killed. Trampled by a horse. Apparently he was a gambler, spent a lot of time at the racetrack.

"After that, my mother changed. She started getting headaches. She slept a lot, would hardly ever leave her room. She started acting strangely, one time she was convinced that her skin was crawling with insects. Once she thought her hands were in flames. She saw other things. She told me to be sure to take care of my little brother, 'Don't let him play so close to the window.' I never had a brother, I am an only child.

"Then one day she was gone. They took her away, they told me she was going to a hospital and was going to receive the very best of care. I found out years later that she was sent to an asylum for the criminally insane. No hospital, this was a prison. I was never allowed to visit her, and a year later she died. Heart attack they said. She was thirty two years old.

"I think they did something to her. They must have drugged her or something, what else could make her change like that? I even toyed with the idea that my father had something to do with her lover's death."

They sat silent for a while. "I suppose now you think I'm insane."

Matthew shook his head. "I have no reason to think that. Look, it's not so easy to commit someone. You have to have a medical diagnosis of insanity, and a judge has to approve it."

Caitlin laughed. "You think he doesn't own judges? Doctors? He hired you."

He struggled for something to say. "Well, don't worry. We'll think of something."

"We?"

The next morning Matthew awoke to a pounding on the door. He hated to be woken up. He much preferred to let a searing headache and a wave of nausea wake him up naturally. "Swift wants us downstairs for a meeting. Now."

When he joined the meeting, Mr. Swift took a seat at the head of the table and addressed his men. "It seems there's been some vandalism down at the factory. Some unpleasant messages were painted on the door, pertaining to my imminent demise. That problem has since been… neutralized," Swift puffed his cigar and glanced at Frank Goodnight, "but we still need to be on our guard. I'm bringing in a few extra men for security until the party. On a happier note, my daughter has accepted a proposal of marriage to my friend, Henry Whitworth-Sudbury. We will be making it official on Saturday, so no one else should know beforehand. I would so hate to ruin the surprise for her. In the meantime, she will be shopping for her trousseau. I want someone with her at all times."

Matthew snorted. "What's a trousseau? Whatever it is, I'm pretty sure she's already got one."

Theodore Swift had little patience for Matthew's attitude. "A trousseau is a wardrobe, young man. That's everything-dresses, hats, gloves, shoes-the works. She can have anything her heart desires, money is no object. But it has to be soon, that was her condition for accepting the engagement. You need to make sure she gets everything she wants, Judge. I want her to look perfect for the announcement. Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have real work to attend to."

When Swift was well out of earshot, Matthew turned to Frank. "Is he serious? What in the hell could she possibly buy that she doesn't already have? If she likes one thing, she's got to have ten of them. 'This one has a bow. This one sparkles. This one matches my pretty petticoats, or some damn thing.' That girl could wear a different get-up every day for a year with no repeat."

"But I'm a slave to the latest fashion. I'd rather be dead than stand up in front of all those people in last year's dress."

Matthew swung around, to find Caitlin close behind him, smiling sweetly. Frank's younger brother William stifled a laugh.

"Shouldn't you be calling for my carriage, Mr. Judge?"

Matthew bit back the words that came to mind, doing his best to return her gaze.

Caitlin addressed William, but held Matthew's eyes. "William, I'd like you to come too. I would so appreciate a young man's opinion on the prettiest gowns." Caitlin took William's arm and the two left the room together.

Frank stopped Matthew at the door. "Someone with her at all times. No loitering by the carriage, no smoking breaks. Understand?"

"Frank, what about these threats? Is this really a good time for her to be traipsing around from shop to shop?"

"We won't need to worry about that malcontent who painted the message. It seems he was wanted by the police for some other mischief. Unfortunately, he resisted arrest, and was shot trying to make his escape. It's a real shame, but what can you do?"

Matthew drew in a breath when Caitlin emerged from her dressing room in a stunning red satin dress, with a black lace and beaded pearl underskirt. The color set off her pale skin and blonde hair perfectly. He couldn't imagine a more beautiful combination. He wondered if Whitworth-Sudbury knew just what he was getting himself into.

She held out her arms to William. "What do you think sir? May I have this dance?" William blushed from the top of his forehead to his too-tight collar. They took a turn waltzing around the room. She laughed at his shyness, "Well, William, should I take it or not?"

He cast down his eyes and murmured, "I sure wish you would ma'am." And with a pirouette she disappeared into her dressing room.

William sunk into a little velvet upholstered chair and poured himself a large glass of water. Matthew sighed and rolled his eyes. "I need some air. Keep an eye on her, will you?" William dabbed his face with a handkerchief and poured himself another glass. It fell to the lush Persian carpet when the blow to his head knocked him out. Matthew ran back in the room when he heard a moan, but that was as far as he got before the lights went out.

He came to in a pool of blood. He was gagged, and his arms and legs were bound together behind his back. William, still unconscious, was similarly bound. With effort, Matthew rolled up onto his knees, shuffled over to the tea table, and with a swing of his head, sent the delicate china flying, which summoned a very shocked tailor.

"Where is Miss Swift!" he roared when the gag was removed. The nervous man had just untied his hands. "Go find her. Now!" By the time Matthew freed his legs, the tailor returned from the dressing room, ashen and drained.

"Is there another way out of here?" Matthew demanded. A shaky hand pointed toward a servant's entrance. "Help this man!"

At the bottom of a narrow staircase, was an open door, leading out to a very empty alley.


	2. Chapter 2

Swift grilled the two injured men. "How long were you unconscious?" Matthew was tending to William's head wound. His own head was injured, and blood had stained his prized possession, his white suit jacket.

"No idea. Five minutes, maybe ten."

"Idiot!" raged Swift. "Worthless, incompetent piece of shit!"

William spoke up. "It was really my fault sir. I was supposed to be watching her. Somebody came up behind me. I never even heard a thing. It was just as though someone knew we were going to be there."

A butler entered with a note on a silver tray. "This was just delivered, sir." Swift was silent as he read the note, pacing the room. He handed it off to Frank, who filled the others in. "They want a ransom. Fifty thousand, cash. To be delivered by the bodyguard. No guns." Frank looked at Matthew. "That means you."

"What? Why me?"

Frank leaned in and said quietly, "Maybe that suggestion came from her. She really doesn't like you, you know. Can't imagine why."

"I'll do it." Everyone looked at William. "I was her bodyguard too."

Matthew and Frank exchanged a glance. Matthew put his hand on William's shoulder. "No, kid. It's all right. You'll get 'em next time."

Swift, in a rage, tears in his eyes, swung Matthew's chair around, and leaned in close. "Now you listen here, Judge. I hold you personally responsible for this mess. You bring her back to me. Unharmed. Or you are dead. Understand?"

He understood.

The exchange was to take place at midnight at the municipal waterworks, an electric turbine that used the power of the Chicago River to power the city. They arrived an hour early, to familiarize themselves with the area. Frank and Matthew climbed up a steep incline, to check out the bridge where Matthew was to wait with the money. He crossed to the other side to look around the dark, forested area beyond while Frank checked the perimeter of the building on the near side. They met back up and joined the others at the bottom of the hill where they had a good view of the bridge.

"No one is to fire his weapon, unless I give the word," Frank said to the gathered men. "We can't take a chance that the girl could be shot. Meanwhile, keep the chatter to a minimum. Eyes and ears." The atmosphere was tense, but everyone tried to relax, listening for sounds of the presence of other human beings.

When the time came, Frank handed a leather case with a shoulder strap to Matthew, and held out his hand for Matthew's gun.

"Oh right. No guns."

The two men shook hands. Then Matthew took his position on the bridge. He felt rather conspicuous wearing his white coat in the moonlight, just right for anyone interested in target practice. In an attempt to appear calm, he lit up a cigar, and threw away the match on the bridge. He walked a few paces back and forth, then changed his mind and dropped the cigar as well. Moments passed without any other sounds.

A shot rang out, Matthew's body spun around, and he tumbled over the railing, head first into the river. William jumped up, "Matt!"

Frank pulled him to the ground, and carefully climbed up the hill. Another shot split the silence, and he lay flat against the grass. After a few anxious moments, he motioned for his men to follow. They stood now, but there was neither sight nor sound of the kidnappers. Frank spit. "We lost them. Bastards!"

At an eddy, a quarter of a mile downriver, where the current slowed and circled, a white clad body swam toward the bank on the far side of the river. Caitlin held out her hand, to help Matthew out of the water. She was still wearing the red and black gown from the clothing shop.

He lay on his back in the reedy grass and laughed. When he recovered his breath, he opened the leather case and poured out the bundles of cash. He picked up one bundle, pulled out half of the bills and threw them into the river. "What are you doing?" He put the remaining bundle back into the case, and threw the leather bag as far as he could to the opposite bank. "I want them to think it's gone." He took off his blood-stained jacket and vest and threw them in the river as well.

Caitlin gathered the cash and put it in her bag. As they walked to the waiting horses, Caitlin tried to calm her breathing. "I heard two shots."

"That was me. I decided to set up two fuses. That way, if the first one didn't explode, the second one would still get me over the side. If they both went off, one after the other, they might think they were under fire and keep their heads down a few minutes more."

"If I didn't know better, I would swear you have done this before."

He laughed. "The kidnapping was your idea." He rubbed the back of his head. "And may I say, for a little filly, you sure know how to swing a club."

"Why, thank you."

"The hogtie was a nice touch."

"I thought so."

They mounted the horses and headed west. They kept a steady pace, not too fast. They needed these horses to last. They spoke very little while they rode on through the night, and by morning, arrived in Elgin. Elgin was a railroad town of moderate size where they planned to take a westward train, but first they needed to find a hotel to rest and get cleaned up.

Before they entered the hotel, Caitlin looked Matthew over. "You are not quite appropriately dressed." It was true. His clothes were dry, but without his collar, tie and jacket, he did look rather disheveled.

"I have an idea. Laugh."

"What?"

Matthew grabbed her hand and opened the door. He stumbled into the lobby, humming, "The Wedding March." Caitlin caught on and when he started to sway she put his arm around her shoulder and, giggling, they made their way to the counter and the bemused innkeeper.

"Greetings, my good man. I require a room for me. Oh… and my bride."

"Certainly, certainly. May I offer my congratulations?"

Matthew burped. "You may."

"Name?" Pause. "Jackson. Captain. AND missus."

"Very good sir. The room is $2.00 a night. Will you sign the register?"

While Caitlin paid the innkeeper, Matthew leaned over the counter, and with his nose 6 inches from the page, wrote his name. Handing him the key, the innkeeper told them their room was upstairs, to the left. Matthew stopped Caitlin at the bottom of the stairs, out of earshot. "I don't know about you, but I could sure use a drink."

"Really? You need to try harder to appear drunk?"

"Ha ha."

"Well, take your time. I need to get cleaned up. I'll come down when I'm ready."

Matthew held up the room key. "Yes, dear."

He returned to the innkeeper, demanding a bottle of his finest bourbon and a cigar. There was no one else in the parlor, so he took a seat near the door, where he could keep an eye on the street. He put up his feet, and lit the cigar. He opened the bottle, and curled up to his new best friend.

When Caitlin opened the door to her room, she heard shuffling and subdued voices further down the hall. She went toward the sound, and discovered a couple having sex on the back stairway. They panicked when they saw her, but she took control of the situation quickly. "Shh. Shh. Not a sound."

She waited while they adjusted their clothing. The girl was obviously a scullery maid. Her hair was pulled back in a kerchief, and now that her skirts were down, Caitlin could see that she wore a full apron. The boy was tall and skinny, in a greasy green leather jacket, blue shirt and red plaid trousers.

She addressed him first. "Young man, you do realize that if I were to call out, the landlord downstairs would have your hide." He nodded. To the girl, "Is there a laundry in this hotel?"

"Yes ma'am. Down the cellar."

"Good." Back to the boy. "You will go down to the laundry, and await my instructions. And rest assured, young man, if you try to run, I will see to it that you suffer to the full extent of the law. Do you understand?" He nodded. "Off you go."

The girl started to cry, "Ma'am, please…"

Caitlin put a comforting arm around her shoulder. "Hush. Come with me." She took the maid into her room, sat her down and locked the door.

"Oh ma'am, please don't tell on me. If my daddy finds out he'll kill me."

Caitlin pulled up a chair to face the frightened girl. She smiled. "What is your name?"

"Molly."

"Molly, I promise you, you have nothing to fear from me. As a matter of fact, I asked you in here because I need your help." She opened her purse and took out a twenty dollar bill, and laid it on the table. The girl stopped whimpering. "I think perhaps you and I have something in common. Parents who are less than understanding? You see, I have run away from my home, and I do not wish to be found. I need to change out of these clothes, and then I'm going to ask you to cut my hair. So Molly, will you help me?"

Molly had never met anyone like her in her life. Caitlin seemed to her to be some kind of a glamorous fairytale princess. The money on the table represented just about one year's wages for the girl, after the landlord squeezed her for room and board. "Oh yes, ma'am. Yes I will."

Caitlin buttoned up the vest on a three-piece man's suit.

"Ma'am, where in creation did you get an outfit like that?"

"I ordered it back in—my home town. I told the tailor that I wanted to buy a suit for my brother who was going away to school. He happened to be just about my size." They both laughed. Caitlin held up a pair of scissors. "There's no use putting it off."

Molly was a bit clumsy at first, cutting one long blond curly lock after another. When they were off though, she deftly trimmed the hair into a suitable man's cut. "Molly, I believe you have a real talent. Where did you learn to cut hair like that?"

"I like to watch the barber. I've been cuttin' my brother's hair since- well, since he had hair. And my daddy's too, of course."

"Tell me about your young man. What was his name?"

"Dan." She smiled. "But he ain't my young man."

"Oh, I see."

Molly started to gently fold the dress. Caitlin noticed she lingered, stroking the red satin and black lace. "You like it, don't you?"

"I ain't never seen anything so pretty."

"Would you like to keep it?"

Molly gave a whoop and laughed. "Can you just see me sashay about in such a thing?"

"It's worth a lot of money. You could sell it. Maybe start up a barber shop of your own someday?"

Molly sat down on the bed. "Why? Why would you do that?"

"Because you helped me. Thanks to you, I now have a chance to start a new life. I'd like you to have it, but on one condition. You'd have to keep it hidden for at least a year. No one can know that you have it until a year has passed. Do you have a safe place where you can keep it, where no one will be able to find it?"

"I loosened the floorboards under my bed, that's where I keep mementos and such."

"Does anyone else know about this place?"

Molly shook her head.

Caitlin had originally planned to bury the dress, but she couldn't be sure it would not be discovered. If she could persuade Molly to keep it safely out of sight for a time, it could be worth a fortune to the girl.

Caitlin spoke carefully now. "The men who will come looking for me are dangerous. If they were to find out about the dress, they might start asking questions, and I would not want you to get into any trouble. After a year, you could take it out, and if anyone asks where you got it, you could say you bought it from a traveling salesman who trades in 'clothes of the dead.' Just remember, Molly, it's only a dress. It's not worth risking your—safety. Think of it as an investment. In a year's time it will pay you a big dividend. There, it's settled."

Caitlin took a ten dollar bill out of her purse and laid it on the twenty. "Now Molly, I have one more request."


	3. Chapter 3

Matthew's nap was interrupted when someone kicked the chair. He looked up in time to see two very familiar bags being carried out of the hotel. "Hey!" When he got outside, he saw the figure disappear around the side of the building. "Stop!" The boy with the bags was running full on, around the backside of the building, with Matthew closing in. He grabbed the boy by the coat and shoved him up against the wall. "Where did you get tho- those-"

A broad grin spread across Caitlin's face. He dropped her and staggered back. Laughter began to bubble up, and soon both of them were doubled over. Then he got very serious and pulled the wool cap off Caitlin's head. "Oh, girl, what have you done?"

After an uncomfortable silence, Caitlin said, "They'll be looking for a man and a woman, not a man and a boy."

"Yeah but…"

"I couldn't very well hide it… You're upset."

"No, no, I'm not. I'm just-" He paused. "It's brilliant. I would have never known you."

She smiled and gave him her bag. "This is for you."

"What's that?"

"Your disguise."

He opened the satchel containing a green leather coat and red pants. "No. Oh no. I can't wear this."

Matthew's clothing had always been a source of pride for him. It gave him an air of success which helped him to earn the trust and respect of wealthy men. It was also elegant enough to invite the amorous attentions of wealthy women. His white jacket made him stand out in a crowd. It was a pain in the ass to take care of, but that suit opened doors for Matthew that he needed opening. He was going to miss it.

"Matthew, they will be looking for a well-dressed man."

"Right, they won't be looking for a clown."

"Or indeed, a pimp."

"Oh, is that where this came from? I might have known."

"You can't travel looking like this. Would you rather I found you a dress?"

"No, thanks. I'll try it on."

He walked back toward the hotel. Caitlin stopped him. "Wait, I can't go back there!"

"Why?"

She gestured to her clothing. "Your bride?"

"Oh, right."

She looked around. "We need to find someplace secluded. Do you remember that barn we saw on the way in to town?"

The barn was indeed secluded. It was situated on a gentle slope leading down to a creek. It was the perfect spot for grazing animals to find shelter and water. They took a quick look around to be sure they wouldn't be disturbed, then they got down to the business of Matthew's disguise.

Caitlin rummaged through her bag to find the man's shirt. Matthew got his halfway off, but stopped when he noticed that she was staring. She had certainly seen men with their shirts off before in her father's factory, without giving them another thought. They were perhaps more muscular than this man, but seeing Matthew this way, she sensed a certain grace in his movement. He seemed to be totally at ease with his body. She had to admit, it was appealing.

She put that thought from her mind, preferring to concentrate on the task at hand. She tossed the shirt and headed for the door.

"Caitlin, wait. I need your help." Matthew took two large rolls of gauze out of his bag. He made a pocket out of a strip of gauze, and in it he laid the money, one bundle next to the other. "We're going to have a bit of a problem. See, I was planning on you wearing a corset."

He indicated to Caitlin to help him to wrap the pouch around his waist. "We'll have to come up with other hiding places."

After he had thrown the money down the river, it left them with forty-nine bundles, each containing 100-ten dollar bills. The first pouch would only take eleven bundles around Matthew's slender waist. Caitlin wrapped the packet around him using the roll of gauze. She had to reach all around him, so it was impossible not to notice his skin, his muscles, and his scent.

He made another pouch, and Caitlin wrapped it above the first one, around his chest. That took care of twenty-two bundles. The red plaid pants had lacing up the back at the waist, so they loosened it, and figured they could lay one more bundle over the lower one, giving Matthew a bit of a pot belly. This packet took twelve bundles. That left them with fifteen bundles to hide.

"You'll have to wrap them around me." Caitlin removed her jacket and vest, untucked her shirt and unbuttoned the lower section. She sucked in her breath when he first touched her, so he backed off, smiling.

"Relax darlin'. I am a doctor."

Why didn't that make her feel better?

He waited, as if daring her to ask again.

"Well, all right then. Just do it!"

When he finished the wrapping, Caitlin tucked in her shirt and buttoned her vest. Matthew shrewdly looked her over. "Actually, you look more like a boy when you cover up those curves." He walked down to the creek. "I need to shave off my mustache."

Caitlin followed. "You know, we need names. You can still be Captain Jackson, but what should be your Christian name? What do you think of 'Homer'?"

"I hate the name 'Homer'."

"Excellent. Homer it is. What about me? What do I look like?"

"Hmm… Charlie? M—mmm—Miller."

"Charlie Miller and Homer Jackson."

Caitlin produced Matthew's gun and holster from her satchel. He strapped on his gun and put on the green jacket.

"And how should we say that Charlie Miller and Homer Jackson come to be traveling companions?"

"Cousins?"

"What about the accent?"

"I'm your long-lost cousin from England."

"Ah yes, dear old Aunt Sheila and Uncle Rufus from the old country. Fond memories. Well, Cousin Charlie, we'd better go catch that train."


	4. Chapter 4

As people were leaving the train, the platform filled with passengers waiting to board. Matthew and Caitlin leaned up against the wall.

Two men came out of the station onto the platform. They weren't carrying luggage, but they were armed. Matthew took Caitlin by the arm. "Walk with me."

They stepped off the end of the platform and around the corner of the building. "What's the matter?"

"A couple of men. Guns."

"Bollocks! What are we going to do?"

Matthew rubbed his chin. "When they start to take on passengers, you take the bags and get on the last car. Don't worry, no one will pay you any notice. Just walk on past and get on the train."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'll be along. We need a distraction. They're boarding now, you go on."

Caitlin carried the bags up onto the platform. He was right. No one seemed to look at the kid carrying somebody's luggage. Even when she passed under the nose of one of the armed men, she did not arouse suspicion.

She found a seat in the last car, and looked out at the station. She could no longer see Matthew. A few moments later, the train began to move. She heard a gunshot. She jumped and screamed, "NO!" Desperately, she looked for a way off the train. She made for the door at the back of the car. When she opened it, she could see Matthew tear around the corner like a bat out of hell and run up the tracks toward the train. She held out her hand when he got close. They collapsed on the deck of the train car, laughing.

"I thought they shot you!"

He laughed. "That was me. I fired my gun in the air in front of the station. I thought that might get their attention. Come on, let's get inside."

They found their seats and settled in. Matthew noticed that Caitlin sat with a straight back, with her hands primly in her lap and her knees together. Matthew made a point of stretching out his legs and putting them up on the opposite bench, then looked up at her. She slouched her shoulders a bit, with a curious look. He glanced down at her lap. She put one arm up on the armrest and scooted down in her seat, trying to look relaxed. He nodded. It would do. They sat in silence for a while, relieved to be finally on their way.

"Thank you for helping me."

"Don't mention it." They spoke in a whisper.

"When I looked ahead to my inevitable future, I felt suffocated. To be married to that man, to be married to any man, concerning myself with tedious tea parties and frivolous social events, having to live under someone else's control, I could never survive. My father is a cold man, and we long ago decided we didn't like each other, but we had an understanding. In spite of his bluster, he almost always gave me my own way—until now. Once he got it into his head to marry me off, he could not be dissuaded.

"I had everything. Clothing, travel, education. Every material need provided, except for my freedom. What good are pretty things if you can't escape your pretty cage?"

He paused. "This outfit of yours, you didn't just pick that up last night, did you?"

She shook her head. "I had it made a year ago. I needed to know that if my situation grew intolerable, or if I started getting headaches, I would have a way out. Now the kidnapping, I never could have tried that on my own. But if I could enlist your help, I thought, "Why shouldn't my father bankroll my future? I'm certain he settled on a considerable dowry to Henry. Why shouldn't I use that money to make a new life?

"And as to whether you were trustworthy, I have been watching you. While you are obnoxious and at times, aggravating, you are smart, and you are the only man I know who is not afraid of my father. So I took a chance that I could trust you. Don't prove me wrong.

"When I found out my father hired a doctor to be my bodyguard, I had to wonder if he ordered you to evaluate me. Did he?"

"No. In fact, I don't think he took any notice of my employment. Frank got me the job. We're old friends. We were in the army together. He was helping me out of a—bit of a situation."

"At any rate, I am grateful."

"We're not out of the woods yet. If those men were looking for us, then we can assume that your father put out an alert to local law enforcement and the Pinkertons. The Pinks are everywhere, they have a hand in everything. I won't rest easy until we are well away."

"Where?"

"Well, if we keep heading west, there's any number of places where a person can go about his business in relative anonymity."

"No. They won't stop looking for us. I think we should leave the country."

"Canada?"

"No. England. London is a huge city. It's a place where we could disappear."

Matthew thought about that for a moment. "OK. We get off at the next station, and we turn around."

On the train ride to New York, they kept their heads down and avoided eye contact as much as possible with passersby. They didn't encounter any more lawmen, but they knew they could be lurking around any corner, so they were watchful. They arrived at Grand Central Station, tired and hungry. The ocean liner wouldn't be leaving for a couple of hours, so they headed for the market stalls on the street to find some food. Matthew was about to go into a bakery, when Caitlin saw a fruit vendor. They planned to meet there and find a place to sit.

Matthew came out with the bread and tried to locate Caitlin. At the fruit seller, he found her satchel on the ground, but no sign of her. He picked up the bag and began to scan the crowd for her, but with no luck. The crowd pressed in the street, jostling with train passengers coming and going, fruit vendors shouting out their wares, shoppers haggling, carriages rumbling and trains pulling in and out.

He turned into an alley between two tall warehouses, just in time to see William Goodnight dragging Caitlin, holding a gun to her neck. He pulled her into an enclosed courtyard, a dead end surrounded by two brick storehouses. There weren't any people around, just a loading area with a wooden platform and two sliding metal doors.

William had not thought this through. He didn't want to risk a deadly encounter Matthew, but couldn't risk letting Caitlin go either. "Stay back Matt," he said, as Judge turned the corner into the courtyard. William was sweating, panicked and trapped. "Back off!" He thought if he let the girl go, he would have to shoot Matthew. William had never shot a man before.


	5. Chapter 5

Matthew dropped his packages and showed his hands. "OK, OK, William. Let's just calm down." Matthew took a few tentative steps forward. "You've got the gun, you're calling the shots. So let's just take things easy." William relaxed a bit, but refused to release his grip on the girl. "How did you know we were in New York?"

"We didn't. Swift's got men looking for you all over. Me and Frank, we thought you'd head for a big city, so we came here. Frank sent me to watch the station. I wouldn't have even noticed her, dressed like that, only I heard her voice and thought, 'Damn, that ain't no boy.' I couldn't see you anywhere, so I just grabbed her." Caitlin had worked her left hand free, and reached slowly into her pocket.

"That was good. You did pretty good. So what do you want to do now?"

William's voice was plaintive. "I have to take her back."

"OK. How do you see that happening? Are you planning on walking her out of here with a gun to her head?"

"I don't know! I don't know! Shut up and let me think."

Matthew took a few more steps forward. He was now only 20 feet away. "You don't have to do this William. This isn't your fight."

"You betrayed us, Matt. You made us look like fools. We can't just let you go."

"Look, I know you're not going to hurt her William, so why don't you just let her go? I'm the one they want. Take me, I won't resist." Matthew lifted his gun from the holster by the handle and held it up for William to see. "Just let her go. I'll be your prisoner and we can walk out of here together. Nobody has to get hurt."

"No!" Caitlin pulled her knife from her pocket and stabbed William in the thigh. As he fell back, William raised up his gun, but he was too late. Matthew's bullet went through his brain before he could fire his weapon.

Matthew and Caitlin stood frozen for a few seconds, expecting someone to come running around the corner. No one came. The brick warehouse walls deflected the sound of the gunshot, so it scarcely registered over the din in the crowded streets around the station. Matthew was stunned, his gun still pointing at the young man on the ground.

Caitlin hissed, "Put that away!" He looked at Caitlin, as though he couldn't hear her.

"Matthew, put the gun away. Help me. We can't leave him here. Help me move him!" They took hold of William's shoulders and dragged his body under the wooden platform steps.

Matthew was shaking, thought he might retch. "He was my friend. He was just a kid. What was he thinking? Trying to take us both on his own? Why didn't he go for help?"

"It's lucky for us he didn't, because you'd be dead."

Matthew looked drained.

"Matthew, look at me. We still have a chance to get away. We can't stay here. Come on." They gathered what debris they could find to conceal the body under the stairs and walked as calmly as they could, out into the bustling street.

It was two hours before the ocean liner was scheduled to launch, but the dock was already packed. They'd kept close to the buildings, to keep out of sight, but somebody was going to have to book their passage. "I'll do it," Caitlin said. "They're less likely to pick me out of a crowd. You'd be surprised. People don't even look at me now."

"That's a big change for you."

She smiled. "I'll be sure to use a deep voice," she said, trying not to sound nervous. She approached the ticket line, behind a matron with two children. She stood close, hoping to appear as a member of their party. When she secured the tickets, she and Matthew left the building and went around the back, until it was time to board the ship. They climbed on top of a shed, and waited, scanning the crowd. A few people were already boarding the ship, on two gangplanks, one near the stern, the other near the bow.

"There's Frank. I see him." They spotted Frank Goodnight, talking with two men. One man was young, big, high-strung and twitchy. The other was an older man with a steely gaze. Clearly both were local thugs or maybe Pinkertons, but neither was known to Matthew or Caitlin. Frank ordered each man to stand by a gangplank and get a good look at everyone who got onboard.

"Oh oh."

"How are we going to get past those men?"

Matthew sighed. "I don't know. We wait."

Frank moved through the crowd, leaving nothing to chance. An hour went by, the dock got more and more crowded with travelers and friends to see them off. Except for the three menacing detectives, it was something of a holiday atmosphere. The boat deck was packed with travelers waving goodbye.

Frank paused to light a cigar.

"Matthew, do you think he knows about William?"

Matthew shook his head. "I don't think so. Even if the body has been found, it will be a long while before they figure out who he belongs to."

Fifteen minutes before launch, the whistle on the boat blared, urging the last of the passengers to board. Five more tense minutes passed. The boat whistle blared again. Frank called to the older man, and the two of them joined the burly man at the bow. They went up the gangplank and were stopped at the top by a sailor, asking to see their documentation. Frank indicated to his men to search the passengers and ship, while he argued with the sailor. The burly man went left, the other climbed to the upper deck. The sailor who detained Frank waved down a porter, and soon there were three other sailors, and an officer, all arguing with him, insisting he leave or be arrested. Frank just smiled and kept them talking. He was buying time for his men to search the ship.

Another deafening blast of the boat's whistle. Five minutes to launch.

The big thug had made it back to the stern, near the lifeboats. He lifted the tarps and searched underneath, then disappeared around the other side of the ship. "You see that? That's where we're going. We'll board at the stern, and hide in a lifeboat. Now. Let's go. Walk."

"What if that detective checks the boats again?"

"He won't."

"What if Frank sees us board?"

"We're dead."

The sailors were now threatening to physically remove Frank from the ship. He put two fingers to his mouth, whistled, and smiled at the sailors.

The boat deck was full of passengers, all waving and looking toward the dock. No one noticed that two new arrivals had slipped under a tarp into a life boat.

They lay down, and waited for what seemed like an eternity. The flat bottom of the lifeboat was less than two feet wide, connecting to the sloping sides, leaving just enough room for them to stretch out, facing one another. Matthew held his arm against the opposite side of the boat, to create what small space he could between them. It seemed like all the sound went out of the world, except for their breathing. Now what?

"You have a plan?"

"What do you mean?"

"For getting out of this lifeboat. You have a plan."

"Well, not a plan per se."

"I'm getting out."

"Wait, wait, wait! Why don't we just wait until the boat starts moving?"

"Why, do you think they are still searching the boat?"

"Maybe."

"But you don't think they'll check under the tarp again?"

"Maybe not."

"I'm getting out."

"Wait, wait! Let's wait until the boat starts moving. Then we'll know that Frank and his men are off."

"How?"

"How what?"

"How do we know they got off?"

"Because they don't have tickets."

"How do you know? How do you know that one of them didn't have a ticket?"

He didn't have an answer for that. "Something's wrong. We should be moving."

"Matthew, no offence, but I'm not going to spend the next twelve days in this lifeboat with you. In all likelihood, they have left the ship. But if they haven't, if someone is meant to stay on the boat, then they are going to find us. We are pretty well disguised. If we get below decks, and lay low, maybe we can avoid being noticed. But if we are going to get caught, I won't be found hiding."

They climbed out and separated, blending in with the crowd on the deck. Matthew indicated to Caitlin that Frank and his men were back on the dock.

She touched his right hand. "You're bleeding."

"Yeah. I scraped it on the lifeboat."

Caitlin picked up the bags. "You'd better get that cleaned up. I'll take you to sickbay." Matthew took one last look at his old friend.

Caitlin said, "Now, I've done this trip many times with my father. People tend to form up friendships. Whatever we do, let's not attract attention to ourselves." Outside of the sickbay, Matthew took his ring off his scraped knuckle, and handed it to Caitlin.

She made her way down to the bowels of the ship, to steerage and the men's dormitory, a narrow compartment with a dozen bunk beds, a sink, a spittoon, and barely enough room to turn around. Normally, when Caitlin entered a room full of men, she commanded attention, but Charlie might as well have been invisible. The men were in varying states of undress. She jockeyed her way to her bunk to stow the bags.

When she returned to sickbay, she waited just inside the doorway. She found Matthew leaning up against a wall, flirting with the young nurse who was attempting to put away supplies.

Caitlin took Matthew's ring out of her pocket. She turned it over in her hand. It was an unusual ring, not particularly valuable. It had an onyx stone with a tiny ruby set in the center. The gold band was thinning from wear. She noticed it had an inscription.

"Homer?" Pause. "Homer."

"What?" His new name would take some getting used to.

"Can I talk to you outside?" She led him out into the corridor, and spoke in a whisper.

"You can't keep this."

"What?"

"You have to get rid of it."

"Why?"

"Because it has your name on the inside!"

"No, it has Matthew Judge's name on the inside."

"That isn't funny. What if someone sees it?"

"Who's going to see it?"

"I don't know. Maybe someone who wants to do you harm?" She started climbing the stairway that led to the deck outside.

When they were out of earshot from other passengers, Matthew said, "Nobody is going to look inside that ring, and even if someone did, the name would mean nothing."

"It isn't worth the risk. I want you to throw it in the ocean."

He took the ring from her and put it in his pocket. "The hell I will."

"Why is it so important to you?"

"Because my father gave it to me."

"It's dangerous."

"Why?"

"Because it connects us to our past!"

"NO. It connects ME to MY past." He waited for a sailor to pass by. "Look, my father had nothing. This is all I have from him. It has sentimental value. I'm keeping it."

"Matthew, I understand, you loved your father. But that ring is not him. It is an object. A memento. And if there is a chance that it could be used against you, you have to get rid of it."

"You don't understand. He was a good man. He wasn't what you would call smart or successful, but he was compassionate, he always wanted to help people. Not just people, if he found a stray cat or an injured bird, he always would take them in. When I was young, it embarrassed me, because I knew people took advantage of his good nature. If he knew, he didn't care. I became a doctor because of him."

"That is all well and good, but it doesn't change the fact that this ring is dangerous."

"Look, if it will make you feel better, I'll wear it on a chain, but I'm not getting rid of it."

"Why would that make me feel better?"

"If they don't see it, they won't ask about it."

"Don't be an idiot!"

"I'm done talking about this." There was a bitter silence. Caitlin could see there was no hope of changing his mind, so she turned on her heel and left him there.

It started to rain up on deck, but it felt good on Matthew's face. _What the hell just happened?_ _Why did I get so angry?_ The truth was that Matthew hadn't thought about that ring for years. She was right, of course. It galled him to admit it, but she usually was. He could drop the ring over the railing, and it wouldn't change the way he felt about his father. And if his father was standing there with him, he would have said the same damn thing. So why did he get so angry?

It was exactly like when they first met. He resented taking orders from her, and she knew it. He would fight- they would fight- just for sport. It was exhausting.

Why not just throw the thing away? No, it was out of the question now, his pride was up. He'd just do his best to keep it out of sight. He removed the chain from his neck, which held an eagle feather, a gift from an Algonquin medicine man. He put the ring on the chain, and put it back around his neck. It would have to do for now.


	6. Chapter 6

Caitlin woke up at 2:00 am, to find the Matthew's bunk untouched. He wasn't on deck, so she checked the ship's bars and dining room, and finally found him inebriated, slumped in a chair at a poker table, his forehead in his hand. She took the empty chair across from Matthew, and anteed up.

"Well look who it is, fellahs, this here is my cousin, Charlie Miller, from England." The other men murmured greetings.

Between Matthew and Caitlin sat an elegantly appointed gentleman, who, unlike the other men in the game, showed no signs of weariness. He was in his middle thirties, wore a well-trimmed moustache and spoke with a drawl. "Was this your first visit to America, son?" Caitlin nodded. "And how did you find it?"

Matthew snorted. "With both hands."

Caitlin cleared her throat. "It seems like a fine country, sir, what I saw of it at least."

"Whereabouts was that?"

"The New England area mostly."

"Then you missed the best we have to offer. If you didn't get down to Georgia, son, you missed the prettiest land, and the prettiest women in the world. My name's Robert Anderson. If you ever want to see some heaven on earth, you come on down to Atlanta and be my guest."

They checked their cards and the game began. Caitlin asked, "Mr. Anderson, are you visiting Britain for business or pleasure?"

"Pleasure entirely. I am a newly married man." He flexed his left hand and felt the wedding ring. He toyed with it as he continued, "My beautiful bride and I will spend our honeymoon touring Europe. We will stop two weeks in Paris, then…"

Another player spoke up, a jovial middle-aged man with a handlebar moustache. He laughed and slapped the table. "My wife loved Paris. She couldn't get enough of these dresses and hats and whatnot. We're from Port William in Canada, we both speak French. She dragged me to shows and lectures, I thought I'd run my feet right off!" He laughed heartily. "My name's Tom Montgomery."

Matthew spoke up. "Isn't this nice? Please don't let the card game interrupt this charming conversation."

The game resumed. Matthew proceeded to lose one hand after another as the night wore on. He motioned to the porter to keep the bourbon coming.

Anderson leaned into the table, and spoke confidentially. "Of course, when we get to France, I'll be certain to prevent my young wife from being exposed to any radical European ideas. 'Liberty, Equality, Fraternity', and so forth."

Matthew squinted. "Just which one of those three do you object to?"

"I have no particular objection, except that I believe that a man's rights, such as the right to vote, should be based on merit. Otherwise, we risk being ruled by ignorant fools." Matthew wondered if he had just been insulted.

The ship rocked, and a porter lost control of his tray of drinks. A little of the liquid fell on Anderson's neck. "Clumsy n-r! Goddamn you!" He began to savagely beat the porter with his walking stick. Matthew tried to hold him back, but Anderson swung hard at his jaw, sending Matthew flying. Caitlin moved in between the two men. "Mr. Anderson, let me apologize for my cousin's behavior. As you can see, he is very much the worse for drink. I am certain you will find him more agreeable in the morning."

Anderson looked with contempt at the man on the floor and regained his composure. "Yes. Of course."

Caitlin and Tom Montgomery got Matthew to his feet, and together they managed to get him to his bunk to sleep it off.

Matthew slept through the following day. Around 6:00 pm, Caitlin had had enough, and shoved him. "Get up."

Matthew groaned.

"Get up."

"What?"

"I thought there was some hope for you, but now I'm getting to think you're just a lost cause."

"What time is it?"

"It's evening."

"What do you want?"

"You know, for a smart man, you're a terrible poker player."

"What?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, were you playing badly on purpose?"

"I was drunk."

"You weren't drunk. You were drowning. You're a man who doesn't know how to swim, but can't keep away from the water."

"What do you want? I don't work for you anymore."

"No, you don't work for me. I thought you were working with me. Get up."

Matthew's plate lay untouched while he nursed a cup of coffee. "So who taught you to play poker?"

"I've been guarded by men like you my whole life. It was just something to do. I found I liked it. It isn't a game about winning, it's about understanding people. You play a few hands with a man, you'll get to see his weaknesses. Take Mr. Anderson. A very insecure man, particularly threatened by you. It didn't prevent him from taking your money, but you did unsettle him a bit. Did you notice when he spoke about his wife, he was winning? Now there is a situation in which he feels in complete control. But when he talked about his family, the plantation, the war, he started to lose every hand."

"Very perceptive."

Robert Anderson approached their table, with a stunning young woman on his arm. She was younger than her husband, petite, in a pale blue gown that emphasized her good looks. Her blonde hair was piled on top of her head, dressed with tiny blue flowers. "Good evening Mr. Miller, Capt. Jackson. May I present my wife, Isabelle?"

A kick in the shins brought Matthew to his feet. "How do you do, Mrs. Anderson? I had the pleasure of your kind husband's company at poker last night. I'm afraid to say, my own behavior was not at all pleasant. A fact that Mr. Anderson was good enough to overlook. Sir, you are a gentleman. Anything that I did or said to offend you last night, I assure you, was entirely unintended."

Anderson shook his hand. "Not at all. Think nothing of it. It takes a big man to admit when he is in the wrong. I look forward to our next game, where I know we will meet as friends. Excuse us."

Caitlin smiled approvingly. "You let him win that round. That was gracious of you."

Matthew shrugged. "I just wanted a chance to win back my money."

They walked out onto the deck. Caitlin smiled. "Shall I tell you what your weakness is?"

"If I say no, are you going to tell me anyway?"

"You're too emotional."

Matthew burst out laughing. "Really? Please, go on. This is amusing."

"You want to know what your problem was last night? Guilt." He rolled his eyes and waited for the lecture. "Back home I found myself in an untenable situation. You took that as a challenge. Everything you did from that point was calculated. You were focused on a goal. You may have benefited from a bit of luck, but you were smart. You were guided by a keen intellect." Well, this wasn't so bad.

"He wasn't a child, Matthew, for all that you treated him like one. He was a grown man. He chose his life. Did you think you could save him from that? And what if he had shot me? Did you think you and William and Frank were going to go off and find another job protecting innocent women? You let emotion cloud your judgment. That is what you brought to the game last night. You've been able to get away with it up to this point because you're a man, and because you've been lucky. There is the one thing I learned from my father. Don't ever give in to emotion. If your opponent is strong, you have to be stronger. "

She faced him. "I mean to make something of my life, and I don't need luck, and I certainly don't need a man. But I could use a partner."


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, as Caitlin and Matthew were leaving the dormitory, they heard a thudding sound coming from what appeared to be a utility closet at the end of the corridor. Caitlin moved toward it. "It sounds like someone is trying to get out."

Matthew held her back. "Wait."

A moment later, a burly sailor and a woman emerged from the closet. The woman took an immediate liking to Caitlin, putting her arm around her neck. "What is your name?"

"Charlie."

"Well, Charlie, how would you like me to make you a man?"

Caitlin was thoroughly enjoying the attention and the game. "That is a generous offer. Perhaps another time?"

She touched Caitlin's nose. "I'll look forward to that." She left.

The sailor had just finished doing up his trousers and straightening his uniform. "Boys, this here is what we call the 'Molly Closet.' Anytime you want to be with your girl, you just take her on down here for a little _privicy_." He winked at Caitlin. "That'll give you something to write home about, eh son?"

Caitlin looked at Matthew. "It certainly would."

Matthew had decided that cigars were not in keeping with his new persona. When they arrived on deck, he lit up a cigarette. They leaned on the railing, looking out at the water.

"Homer?"

"Charlie?"

"Have you ever been with a prostitute?"

"Yes."

"What is it like?"

Matthew laughed. "Uncomplicated."

"Tell me."

He took a drag on his cigarette. "Sometimes you just want to be with a woman. You don't want to talk, you don't want to fight. You don't want to impress her parents. Just…" He took another drag, "simple."

"Do you think she likes it?"

"Well, I would hope so."

Caitlin surveyed Matthew critically. "Yes, I think you'd be good. As a 'John', I mean. I imagine a woman in that line of work must have to put up with all sorts, and not all of them gentlemen." She narrowed her eyes. "Yes, I bet they like you."

"Well, it seems you have an admirer. Clearly she is looking forward to some _privicy_ with you. You just smiled at her like butter wouldn't melt in your mouth. Nobody intimidates you, do they?"

"Not so far. By the way, if you should wish to take that nurse to the 'Molly Closet,' I hope you will not hesitate on my account."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Capt. Jackson, Mr. Miller?" They looked up to the deck above them. Isabelle Anderson was waving at them to come up.

"Good morning ma'am."

"Good morning. We were just having tea. Won't you join us?" At the table sat a rather stern, looking elderly woman. "Aunt Dorothea, these are friends of Robert's, Capt. Jackson and Mr. Miller. This is Robert's Aunt Dorothea."

They murmured their greetings. Matthew held the chair for Isabelle, and his hand grazed her back. She flinched, then gracefully took the seat. She poured tea for Matthew and Caitlin. Aunt Dorothea clearly did not approve, but remained silent.

"Do you gentlemen find life on a ship terribly confining? Indoors it is so cramped, and I find when I am out of doors, there are so many people, I just can't breathe the air properly. Oh how I miss our land, open pastures, and my horses. Do you gentlemen ride?"

Aunt Dorothea stood. "I left my fan in the stateroom. Please excuse me."

Isabelle jumped up. "Oh, Aunt, I am so sorry! I must have forgotten your fan. I'll go right back and get it."

"That won't be necessary. Please, drink your tea."

There was a pause as the three sat down again. Caitlin sensed Isabelle's nervousness. "You were talking of your horses?"

"Oh yes, how I miss my daily ride. Robert insists that I always have one groom with me, but sometimes, I am able to venture out alone. I cherish those walks in the woods, far from-other people."

"We understand you'll be going to Paris soon, to shop for the season. You must be looking forward to that."

Isabelle waved a hand. "Yes, well, Robert picks out all of my clothes. He doesn't think anyone else can dress me as well as he can. He takes a great interest in my appearance."

Aunt Dorothea returned to the table, with Robert and Tom Montgomery in tow. Robert took Isabelle by the elbow. "Now my dear, you know you have those letters to write before luncheon. Excuse us, gentlemen." He led Isabelle away.

Tom mused, "Pretty girl. A trifle high-strung though."

Matthew snorted, "Consider her spouse."

"I take your point."

Matthew continued, "'Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear.'"

Tom smiled. "Wouldn't have pegged you for an admirer of Shakespeare."

"I am an admirer of beautiful women. I can't fault Shakespeare for pointing it out."

Caitlin added, "She is very pretty. She reminds me of a porcelain doll. A bit sad, though, don't you think? There is a reticence behind that smile."

Matthew repeated, "Like I said, consider her husband."

"Are you saying she had a choice?"

"Yes, of course. Everyone does."

Caitlin laughed. "Isn't that a bit naïve? I would think you of all people would know better. Women have no choice when it comes to marriage."

"What about love?"

"Love? Homer, do you recall a recent conversation in which you said that love should be uncomplicated?"

"As a matter of fact, I do remember that conversation, and we weren't talking about love. If you are in love, it is actually not complicated at all."

Tom reacted with a wry smile. "Your cousin is a something of a philosopher, Homer. I must say I am surprised to find such strong views in so a young man."

"He reads a lot."

"But Charlie, are there not examples in literature of women who chose for themselves? What about Portia in Merchant of Venice? Or Elizabeth Bennet? They married for love."

"What about Juliet and Helen of Troy? They chose for love too, and look how things turned out for them. Anyway, we aren't talking about romantic novels. In this world, whether she chooses for love or it is an arranged marriage, the outcome is the same. The woman gives up everything; her property, her children, her body, her life. What does a man give up when he marries?"

Tom asked, "Charlie, don't you think you'd like to marry someday?"

"Present company accepted, I seriously doubt that there is a man living who is worth the sacrifice that a woman would have to make. I assure you, I am not that man."

Matthew sighed, "I don't believe that for a second. Someday, you will fall in love. Then marriage won't seem like such a crazy idea."

"If I did love a woman, such that I could not bear to live without her, how could I ask her to give up everything for me? Is that love? And if we chose to live as man and wife, in every way except what is sanctioned by the church, in the eyes of the world, I would have 'ruined' her. Is that love?"

Tom looked at Caitlin appreciatively. "Charlie, by any chance, are you considering a career in the law?"

"Absolutely not, Tom. I plan to do something honorable in my life."

Caitlin found she loved her "boyhood." She was free to go wherever she wished on the boat, and no one took any notice of her. They simply accepted her for who she was, or who she seemed to be. Men in the dormitory regularly moved about nude, or bragged of their sexual exploits. Sometimes they did it for her benefit, "educating" the young boy among them.

In her feminine attire, she was always on display, always aware of the attention of men. Now, men paid no mind to her looks at all, except, of course, for Matthew. She often caught him looking at her, admiringly? She couldn't tell. Whatever was behind it, he never took it beyond good natured teasing.

What an interesting and surprising man he turned out to be. He could be rash and unpredictable, but there was a decency about him, a fineness of character that she hadn't known in other men. Unlike other men, he treated her as an equal. Of course, there was also a drawback to this; unlike other men, he wasn't afraid of her.

Earlier that day they were walking on the deck to pass the time. There wasn't much to do on the boat, other than visit the ship's library or play cards, so they spent a lot of their time walking or looking out at the water.

He said, "I'm curious. When we get to London, are you going to start wearing 'lady clothes'?"

She laughed. "Well, I really don't know. I find I am rather enjoying this. The clothes are quite comfortable. You should try spending a day in a corset."

"No, thanks."

"You may take for granted how easy it is to be a man. For a woman, she must always be aware of where she is, who she is with. Not so for a man."

"Man? I'm not so sure about that. You look to be, maybe fourteen, fifteen? If you stay in one place long enough, it'll be a pretty good trick, 'cause people will begin to wonder when your voice is going to change, and when you'll be growing a beard. You'll be like 'The Picture of Dorian Gray'."

"Hmm. Anyway, why do you care? I thought you hated all that feminine frippery."

"I don't mind a bit of pretty decoration, but it doesn't make the girl pretty. Nope. A beautiful woman is beautiful, it doesn't matter what she is wearing."

Caitlin blushed. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what? I'm not looking at you. I'm just enjoying the view."

"Well, don't."

As she walked away, he muttered, "Sure thing, Dorian."

On the fifth day of the voyage, the temperature soared. The ocean was calm, and there wasn't a breath of wind. Matthew and Caitlin sought refuge from the sun on the shady side of the boat, chatting with Tom. They were debating the new theory of using fingerprinting in law enforcement. Tom was not convinced that every individual in the world had different fingerprints.

Matthew countered, "I think Sir Galton has collected a great deal of evidence that all humans have unique prints."

"Possibly. Even if one accepts that, it still has little usefulness to a police investigation. You may be able to match a fingerprint with a suspect, but collecting smudges from a crime scene, in and of itself, is not going to find suspects who may have committed the crime."

Isabelle Anderson appeared on the deck, red-faced and disheveled. Caitlin was the closest, and went to her. "Mrs. Anderson, are you all right?"

"Yes. Oh yes. It's so hot. So hot. I can't breathe." She fainted into Tom's arms.

They carried her to a chair, and Caitlin ran to get water and a cold cloth. Matthew felt her forehead and checked her eyes. "You are suffering from heat stroke, Mrs. Anderson. It would help if you could unbutton that collar."

"No." She took a drink of water and Caitlin gave her the cold cloth. Tom fanned her with his newspaper. Isabelle pressed the cloth to her face. "No, it is all right now. Thank you."

"Isabelle!" Robert rushed in and knelt by her chair, covering her face with kisses. "My darling, are you all right?"

"Yes, Robert. Yes, I'm fine."

"Oh my poor darling." To the others he said, "Did she say anything?"

"Just about the heat."

"Let me help you, my love." He lifted her up in his arms.

Matthew said, "She needs to get out of those heavy clothes. And put her in a cool bath if poss-"

Robert said, "I will take care of my wife, thank you."

Matthew and Caitlin played poker each evening with Robert and Tom. Matthew and Robert were prickly with each other, each trying to achieve some advantage over the other. One night, Robert mentioned that there would be a sharpshooter tournament the following day. "Won't you join me?"

Matthew said, "I'd love to, but I'm afraid I didn't bring my rifle."

Robert was ready for that response. "Why then, you'll borrow one of mine."

"He's got quite a collection onboard, Homer," then Montgomery added, "and he was the 1886 Champion at the Creedmore Tournament in New York. He is too modest to mention it to you himself."

"Oh, I see. And yet, he mentioned it to you."

"So Jackson, what do you say, will you join us?"

"Sure. Why not?"

When the game ended, Caitlin took Matthew aside up on deck. "I don't want you to enter the tournament."

"What? I just said I would."

"You can't show him up in front of the whole ship. You have to let him win."

"I'll do no such thing. He challenged me."

"Look, needling him at the poker table is one thing, but humiliating him in front of everyone is not wise. And besides, if you win, you'll be a celebrity on this ship, and we don't want to attract that kind of attention. No. You have to let him win. Make it look good, make it look like you did your best, but let him win."

The tournament took place on the lower deck. Caitlin and Isabelle stood with the other spectators gathered above to watch. A paper target had been set up at the bow, attached to a straw bundle, roughly the size of a man's torso. The players took their first shot at 50 paces. After each man shot, the bullet was marked and the score called out. Anyone who scored lower than 70 in the first round was eliminated.

Six men made it to the second round. Two of the men scored 70. Tom and another man scored 80, Matthew scored 90, and Robert shot a perfect score.

The second round was shot at 75 paces. Only players who scored over 80 would advance to the next round. Matthew looked up at Caitlin before he took his shot. He scored a 70. Only Tom and Robert advanced to the final round.

This time, each player had to shoot a live pigeon on the wing, best three out of five birds. "This is the part that breaks my heart," Isabelle said to Caitlin. "The birds think they are being set free. But even if one gets away, it could never make it to land. It will become exhausted and drown in the sea. I think shooting them is a mercy."

Caitlin found herself wanting to comfort the girl. She put her hand over Isabelle's gloved one. Isabelle slipped her hand away, smiling at Caitlin as if to say, "It's not allowed."

Tom was able to shoot only two of his five birds. Robert proceeded to quickly dispatch all of his five. The spectators cheered and applauded.

Robert was feeling magnanimous, so he invited Tom, Matthew and Caitlin to join him and his wife at luncheon. He dominated the conversation, talking of home, the difficulties of managing freed slaves, the interference from the "carpetbaggers" from the North. Isabelle spoke up only once, to ask if anyone else had heard that the famous music hall singer, Miss Lily Guthrie, was on this very ship, and would be performing at the play that evening.

"We saw her perform at the Pantages in New York," Tom added. "She is one handsome woman, with the voice of an angel. To see her here, in this intimate setting, that is not to be missed." So it was decided they would meet that night for the performance.

When they all met up outside the theater entrance, Matthew kissed Isabelle's hand. "Mrs. Anderson, you are radiant, as ever." Robert glared.

Tom said, "We are in for a real treat. Did you know Miss Guthrie is a former slave?" Robert stiffened. "She has toured all over America and Europe to great acclaim. She is beloved for her transcendent voice. They call her "The Siren," because of her ability to claim one's soul."

Robert and Isabelle took their seats on the ground floor, where all the first class passengers sat. Matthew, Caitlin and Tom headed up to the wrap-around balcony. In contrast to the elegance and propriety of the lower level, the people on the balcony were loud and boisterous. They were eating and drinking, and generally prepared to have a high old time.

The house lights dimmed, and Miss Guthrie took the stage. She was a lovely woman in her middle thirties, dressed in a shimmering green gown, with an emerald necklace and peacock feathers in her hair. The audience below clapped politely, but the balcony erupted in hoots and cheers. She waited gracefully for the audience to quiet down, then she nodded to the accompanist to play her introduction.

Willie Fitzgibbons,  
Who used to sell ribbons,  
And stood up all day on his feet,  
Grew very spoony  
On Madelaine Mooney,  
Who'd rather be dancing than eat.  
Each evening she'd tag him,  
To some dance hall drag him,  
And when the band started to play,  
She'd up like a silly,  
And grab tired Willie,  
Steer him on the floor and she'd say:

(The audience joined the singer on the chorus. Caitlin was surprised to find that everyone on the balcony seemed to know all the words.)

"Waltz me around again, Willie,  
Around, around, around!  
The music is dreamy,  
It's peaches and creamy,  
O don't let my feet touch the ground!  
I feel like a ship on an ocean of joy -  
I just want to holler out loud, 'Ship Ahoy!'  
Waltz me around again, Willie,  
Around, around, around!"

When the audience sang along, they shouted the part about "Ship Ahoy!" After Miss Guthrie sang the second verse, even Matthew and Tom joined in for the chorus. This time the balcony shouted "SHIP AHOY!" even louder. Miss Guthrie bowed gracefully and took her exit while the balcony enthusiastically cheered and clapped.

The curtain rose on the interior of a house. It was sparsely decorated. An old man sat in a rocking chair, and an old woman spun yarn at her spinning wheel. A lovely ingénue stood, sweeping the floor. As each character spoke, they moved in stylized poses, meant to convey their emotions, such that one could tell what the story was about, even without hearing the words. The pianist lavishly punctuated the action with a flowery score.

The old man began the story, describing how the family farm had fallen on hard times ever since the creek dried up and they lost all their crops. The loan on the farm came due that very day, and were it not for a generous benefactor, who agreed to buy all of their livestock, they would be destitute, and live out the rest of their miserable lives in debtor's prison.

In rushed the hero (to uproarious hurrahs from the balcony), who the audience learned was a farmhand, who had spent his whole life in service to the old couple and their granddaughter. He had terrible news! All of the livestock were stolen away in the night! Oh alack! Alas! We are ruined! The banker was due to arrive at any minute, but the loan could not be repaid.

The hero confessed his life-long love for the distraught girl, and vowed that he would save them if he could. In came the evil banker, with two policemen in tow. The balcony hissed, booed, and stomped their feet. The banker called for the old couple to be clapped in chains for defaulting on the loan. The ingénue threw herself at the banker's feet and begged for mercy.

At this the banker left the frozen scene and addressed the audience. When the balcony shouted obscenities at him, he shook his fist and told them that it was he who cut off the creek which ruined their crops, and last night stole the livestock! (Caitlin wondered if the balcony would collapse from all the stomping and hoopla.) He returned to his position above the prostrate girl, and demanded that in order to save her grandparents, she would have to consent to be his wife. She had one day to give him her answer. The curtain fell.

Miss Guthrie again took the stage, and with her song set the mood for the next scene. This time she gave a touching rendition of "My Evening Star."

When from out the shades of night  
Come the stars a-shining bright  
I spy the one I do love  
I recognize my true love  
Beneath the tiny orbs of light

Search the sky from east to west  
She's the brightest and the best  
But she's so far above me  
I know she cannot love me  
Still I love her and more than all the rest

(To Caitlin's delight, the balcony joined in on the chorus, rocking in time with the touching melody. Even the roughist of roustabouts seemed almost moved to tears, swept up in the sweet tragic lyrics.)

My evening star, I wonder who you are  
Set up so high, like a diamond in the sky  
No matter what I do, I can't go up to you  
So come down from there, my evening star  
Come down, come down  
Come down from there, my evening star

Love, I think has made me mad  
'Cause when nights in clouds are clad  
I want her more than ever  
Want her to leave me never  
And all around you, sorrowful and sad

Then when comes the day's bright light  
And my star fades from my sight  
My love is unabating  
I grow impatient waiting  
To see again my love, my life that night

Once more the audience sang the chorus, and Miss Guthrie, having set the tone for the next scene, floated serenely off the stage.

The curtain rose on the unhappy family, awaiting the banker's return the following day. He entered (BOO! HISS!), and demanded the girl's answer. She said, alas, I cannot marry you for I love another! The banker shouted for the old folks to be arrested, but the hero drew a sword and challenged the banker to a duel (HOORAY!). When they were locked in a sword block, the banker produced a dagger and stabbed the hero in the arm (BOO! HISS!) , and the hero fell to the ground. The ingenue threw herself on the hero, and, to save his life, agreed to marry the evil banker. In their last tragic embrace, the hero promised to love her for the rest of his life.

Caitlin had never in her life witnessed such a delightful spectacle. She had been to the theater, of course, but always the staid, proper sort of performance. Miss Guthrie again took the stage. Caitlin leaned forward in her chair and put her elbows over the railing. The audience fell silent, eager to hear what the singer had in store.

The ballroom was filled with fashions throng,  
It shone with a thousand lights,  
And there was a woman who passed along,  
The fairest of all the sights,  
A girl to her lover then softly sighed,  
There's riches at her command;  
But she married for wealth, not for love he cried,  
Though she lives in a mansion grand.

During the chorus, Robert and Isabelle got up and left the theater.

She's only a bird in a gilded cage,  
A beautiful sight to see,  
You may think she's happy and free from care,  
She's not, though she seems to be,  
'Tis sad when you think of her wasted life,  
For youth cannot mate with age,  
And her beauty was sold, for an old man's gold,  
She's a bird in a gilded cage.

When the curtain rose on the final scene, the distressed bride and the evil banker stood at the altar. Just before the priest pronounced them married, the hero entered with the grandparents, all in splendid attire. He had come into a large inheritance (from the mysterious benefactor) and the farm was saved. Furthermore, the hero produced proof that the evil banker was in fact responsible for the creek being diverted and the stolen livestock. The police dragged the banker away. The priest pronounced the hero and ingénue man and wife!

The actors took their bows, and called for Miss Guthrie to come to the stage. Caitlin was surprised to find that some of the toughs in the balcony had actually acquired flowers, which they threw down on the stage. All in all, it was a spectacular evening that Caitlin would never forget.


	8. Chapter 8

Matthew and Caitlin stood at the bar, waiting for Tom and Robert and their nightly poker game. Matthew ordered two bourbons. Caitlin told the bartender, "None for me, thanks."

"Oh come on, let your hair down."

"I like to keep my wits about me. Somebody has to keep you out of trouble. Don't stir up anything with Anderson tonight, please."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Matthew ordered another shot. "Say, whatever happened to that red dress?"

"I gave it to the girl who cut my hair. I told her if she could keep it hidden away for a year, she could probably sell it."

"That's quite a tip."

"She also got your outfit for me."

"Did she knock somebody over the head?"

"Absolutely not. He was well paid, though he had a chilly walk home." They laughed.

"You know, I gotta hand it to you. You were born for a life of crime. I've never seen a woman with more spit and vinegar. I have to admit, I'm impressed." He paused, and took a drink. "What are you going to do with all that money, anyway?"

"Start a business of some sort. Nothing flashy, just something to allow me to remain independent and free from my father." She paused, and asked carefully, "What are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I don't want you to think you have to look after me. We'll split the money, and you can be free to do whatever you choose. Maybe even buy some decent clothes." He looked down at his drink.

Tom joined them at the bar. Matthew and Caitlin had settled into a comfortable friendship with Tom Montgomery. He showed little interest in their background or past, and volunteered little about his own. Instead, they talked of life, love and the world. They discussed politics, women's suffrage and the value of marriage in society. The topic of the theater was a favorite subject, which they returned to often.

Tom asked Caitlin for her reaction to the play. "I have never in my life experienced anything so delightful. The audience was every bit as entertaining as the players. And Miss Guthrie was enchanting, just as you described."

Matthew downed his drink and called for another.

Tom wondered if they had seen anything of Mrs. Anderson since the play a few nights before. Matthew and Caitlin couldn't say that they had. "Ah well, it's probably nothing. Many people do not take to long sea voyages. She seems to have a delicate disposition."

Robert came in, and Caitlin joined him and shuffled the cards. Matthew's eyes followed Caitlin. He seemed lost in thought. Tom asked, "Everything all right, son? You look like your dog just died."

Matthew downed another drink. "Let's play cards."

There was little chatter at the poker game that night. Matthew continued to drink. Robert was on edge, he seemed nervous and impatient. Without warning, Matthew turned to Anderson. "How is Mrs. Anderson?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Is she well? We haven't seen her around on the boat for a while."

"And what is that to you?"

Caitlin and Tom exchanged looks, she folded her cards. "Homer, we need to get back. Now."

Matthew kept his focus on Robert. "I was just wondering if she might not be feeling well."

Caitlin stood up, but Matthew refused to take note.

Montgomery dropped his cards as well, and stood. "Anderson, let's call it a night. Why don't you let me buy you a drink?"

Robert held Matthew's gaze. "As a matter of fact, my wife has not been well."

Matthew asked, "Has she seen a doctor?"

Anderson stood and hissed, "And just what business is that of yours?"

Montgomery put his hand on Anderson's shoulder. "Gentlemen, gentlemen, it's late. Why don't we take up the conversation in the morning when we've all had a good rest?"

Caitlin and Matthew left. "Why do you insist on goading that man?"

"I simply asked after his wife."

"A subject on which you knew he would be defensive. Why can't you resist taunting and challenging him at every turn?"

"What difference does it make? He's a prig. He avoided my question. Why didn't he just say she was sick in the first place?"

Caitlin started down the stairs to steerage, but Matthew went up. "Where are you going?"

"I need to see if she is all right."

"What? Now? It's the middle of the night. You can't just knock on her door now."

"If she is sick, maybe I can help."

"Has she asked for your help?"

Matthew paused, then took off up the stairs. Caitlin followed.

He knocked on the Anderson's door, but not surprisingly, there was no answer. Caitlin drew him away. "Come on, we can call on her in the morning." Matthew nodded.

Robert Anderson rounded the corner as they were leaving. Without a warning, he swung his walking stick hard into Matthew's solar plexus, just as if he was swinging a bat. Matthew dropped to his knees, all the wind was knocked out. Caitlin lunged at Anderson with her knife, but he blocked it with his right hand, and with his left, he slammed Caitlin's head against the wall. She collapsed.

Matthew had managed to get to his feet, but Anderson shoved him against the wall with his walking stick, crushing his throat. The blood on Anderson's hand made him lose his grip, and that was just enough of a shift in balance to allow Matthew to push off the wall, toward the railing. Anderson fell over the rail in an instant, and without a sound, he disappeared into the blackness of the ocean. The entire silent attack lasted less than one minute.

Matthew realized he was still holding the walking stick. He threw it into the water, and hurried to help Caitlin. She was conscious but dazed. He helped her down the stairs and carried her to the Molly Closet to examine her injury. He could see that her pupils were different sizes and she seemed delirious.

"What happened?"

"You've had a concussion. You're going to feel a little strange, and you'll probably be sick."

"Tell the cook to remember to place… place the fish…"

He kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I got you into this."

"We need the carriage for the sisters…"

"Why didn't you just run away?"

"The carriage for the sisters…"

"But you were brave. Fearless, actually. He could have killed you."

"Did you remember to order the flowers?"

"Mm hmm. You just go on talking crazy. I promise I won't tell a soul." She vomited. "Atta girl."

They sat on Matthew's bunk most of the night, with their backs against the wall. They talked quietly for hours, until Matthew was sure she was going to be all right. When it was clear that the other men were sound asleep, Matthew thought no one would pay any mind if he put his arm around Caitlin. She shifted so her back was on his chest. When he murmured softly, she could feel the vibration of his voice. It felt good.

She woke to a sailor shaking her roughly. As soon as he got a look at her face, he shoved her back and continued to search the room. She was in the lower bunk alone. Matthew sat on the bunk above her, with his legs hanging over the side. When the sailor left, she asked, "What were they searching for?"

"No idea."

Out on the deck, there was quite a commotion. Sailors were running to and fro, and all the passengers seemed to be milling about on deck. When they found Montgomery, he had just been given an envelope. He examined its contents with a concerned expression, as if he had gotten some bad news.

Matthew asked him what was going on.

"Mrs. Anderson was found dead in her cabin this morning."

"What happened?"

"She was beaten to death. The ship's doctor recons she's been dead for a couple of days."

A sailor hurried up to them and addressed Montgomery. "We've searched the entire ship, sir, top to bottom. He is definitely not on board."

Montgomery nodded and thanked the sailor. Caitlin and Matthew exchanged curious looks. Why was the sailor reporting to him?

Montgomery was lost in his own thoughts. "We think Anderson must have committed suicide. Going back to that room every night, lying down by her dead body, he must have gone mad and jumped overboard."

Caitlin asked, "Tom, are you a policeman?"

"Detective. With the Pinkerton Agency. We think the two of them were fugitives. I was supposed to keep an eye on them, then we planned to arrest them when we reached landfall, and return them to her father."

Caitlin asked him what they were wanted for. "He kidnapped the girl, and got away with the ransom. Back home, they thought she might have been in on it too, but judging by how he treated her, it's clear she was not here voluntarily. The doctor said there were other bruises, older bruises, so he had been hurting her for a while. The hell of it is, I could have taken them into custody. But I thought, 'We're on a boat in the middle of the ocean. Where could they go?' I decided to just keep an eye on them. Now I feel responsible."

She asked carefully, "How did you know who they were?"

"They fit the description. The daughter is petite, blonde, very pretty. The kidnapper is tall, thin, with a mustache. Fancy dresser, wears a ring. Now instead of taking two prisoners back to her father, I have to take her body. Anderson was careful to avoid hurting her face, so folks like you and me wouldn't be able to see what he was doing to her." He showed them a photo of the dead girl's face. "At least the father will be spared that."

"Did anyone see or hear anything?"

"Not so far, but I have other interviews to conduct before we land. We arrested his aunt—she swears she knows nothing, and maybe she doesn't, but somebody has to answer for this." He sighed before returning to his duties. "A sad day."

Matthew had a dark look in his eye. Caitlin feared he might do something desperate.

"I'm getting drunk."

"It's ten o'clock in the morning."

"I don't care."

He got a bottle from the bar and Caitlin followed him down to his bunk. He took a long swig. She held out her hand for the bottle. "I thought you didn't drink."

"There is a time for everything." She took a drink and waited, to give him a chance to talk. When he seemed only to want to brood, she said, "It wasn't your fault."

"Don't. Don't say that."

"There was nothing you could have done."

"I could have stopped it!"

"How?"

"I could have beat the shit out of him!"

"Oh, that would be good. Then he would be in the sickbay and you would be in the brig. Then she would take him back, and he would beat the shit out of her."

"This isn't her fault."

"I know that. Better than you."

"I could have reported him, then."

"For what? Leaving the play early? Being an ass? Because if it is a crime for a man to be an ass, there aren't enough prisons in this world. This is why I will never marry."

He held up his hand. "I've heard this one before."

She continued, "I will never fall in love. And never will I allow a man to hold dominion over me, because if I do, I am giving him license to hurt me. You did the only thing you could have done to stop him."

"But it was too late! Lord, I don't understand you. How can you just cut off your feelings like that? I'm sorry- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's true. I do 'cut my feelings off,' as you say. But Matthew, don't you understand, that is exactly what she did? To survive, she had to pretend that it wasn't happening. She had to pretend that things were going to get better, because if she didn't, if she gave in to her fear, she would have gone mad." She shook her head. "You Northerners, you think you did something when you finally abolished slavery, but you know nothing has changed."

"So now you're going to lecture me about the war?"

"He still owns his slaves, just as surely as his family did before the war. The only thing that has changed is that now there are some words on a piece of paper. She was his 'possession,' sanctioned by law. She didn't even have a piece of paper that said she was free. If you want to protect a woman, the only thing you can do is to give her the power to protect herself. I try—," she choked, "I try to be strong, because I know that ultimately I am only a frail creature, easily overpowered by a man, and the only person who can prevent that from happening, is myself."

Her face showed steely determination, but her tears were flowing freely. He brushed her tears away, wishing he could brush away the pain. He kissed her tenderly. They pulled each other close, with a longing that only the other could satisfy.


	9. Chapter 9

When they arrived in London, Caitlin decided she should go back to her "lady clothes." She mercifully excused Matthew from her shopping expeditions. She bought a wig, and proceeded to assemble a wardrobe for her new life. She decided that "Susan Hart" had a pleasant ring to it.

He spent his time stocking up on his medical supplies. He had left all of his books and equipment behind, so he needed to start over from scratch. They took a two-bedroom apartment in East London and settled in like an old married couple.

Matthew and Caitlin spent the next couple of weeks exploring the city. After her experience with the play on the boat, Caitlin was particularly interested in visiting all of the theaters. They went to everything, from high-brow entertainment to crude bawdy houses. They met with producers, directors and actors. She was keenly interested in the possibility of opening a theater herself.

In the evenings, they spent their time exploring each other. There were no interruptions, no one to answer to. Just two people, learning to please one another. They acted out each other's fantasies. They tried every position in the kama sutra (even the ones that were anatomically challenging). They learned they could ask the other for anything, and it would be freely given.

When they did venture out in public, any open show of physical affection was to be avoided, so they made up a game to see who could arouse the other first, with just a look, a word, a surreptitious touch. This only increased their appetite.

One evening, Matthew and Caitlin entered the parlor of a gambling house. She had an idea that this might be a business venture worth consideration. There were men sitting at several tables. The room went silent. All eyes were on the two newcomers, particularly the lovely woman. There was a young man close to Caitlin, mouth agape. She took one delicate finger and closed his mouth, which broke the tension in the room, and the men returned to their games.

Matthew and Caitlin took seats at one of the tables. She glanced around the room. She found she missed Charlie at a time like this, how he could blend in to any situation. Normally, she relished the effect she had on men, but just now, she felt conspicuous. They played several hands, then she rose from the table, and they left.

Later that night, Matthew was enjoying the lengthy process of undressing the girl. She was lying on the bed. He'd gotten her down to her chemise and bloomers. This was his favorite part. He patiently explored each bit of skin that was revealed.

Caitlin was somewhat distracted. "I can't do it."

"Can't do what?"

"Run a gambling house. Or a theater either, for that matter."

"Why not?"

"What's the first thing you do when you come to a big city? Go see a show. Or if you are not artistically inclined, look for a card game."

"Yeah?"

"That is what my father would do. And the men who work for him."

"Your father is on the other side of the Atlantic. And the Pinkertons have no jurisdiction here."

"If they operate within the law. Has that been your experience? No, it's too public. I can't take a chance that we would be recognized."

"Well, you keep on thinking. That's what you're good at. Among other things." He returned to his previous occupation.

"I don't want you to go back to that gambling house, either."

"Don't worry about me, I'll be careful."

"Like you were with Anderson?"

That hit a nerve. He looked at her, then rolled over onto his back. She got on top of him and made sure she had his attention. "I don't want you to 'be careful.' I want you to be smart." She began to move above him, in such a way that if he was considering a sharp retort… it could wait.

One day Caitlin said, "There is another theater that I would like to visit."

"Really? I thought you gave up on that idea."

"No, this one might be interesting. It is a burlesque."

"Yeah? What's different about that?"

"This one is private. The man who made my wig told me about it. All of the performers are male, as are most of the audience."

"Ah, tempting as that sounds, I think I'll pass."

"I understand, it's not the sort of thing Susan would go to either. But Charlie could go."

That got his attention.

The theater entrance was an unmarked door, guarded by a doorman. They gave the "password" and were allowed entry. Inside, the audience area was made up of many small tables. The ones in the middle were lit by the spill from the stage lights. The tables along the perimeter were mostly in the dark. Matthew and Caitlin (in her boy's outfit) walked across the floor, and took a dark table in the corner.

Three actors came out on the stage, wearing Japanese kimonos and traditional Geisha wigs and make-up. They sang a song from Gilbert and Sullivan's _The Mikado_, in lovely falsetto.

Three little maids from school are we,  
Pert as a school-girl well can be,  
Filled to the brim with girlish glee,  
Three little maids from school!

Everything is a source of fun. _(Chuckle)_

Nobody's safe, for we care for none! _(Chuckle)_

Life is a joke that's just begun! _(Chuckle)_

Three little maids from school!

Caitlin looked around at the audience. The place was nearly full. Many couples were watching the play, others were embracing. She noticed that Matthew was looking at her amorously. This was one time when the two of them could show affection in public, and it was strangely exciting. She put a hand on his thigh, and he kissed her passionately.

Three little maids who, all unwary,  
Come from a ladies' seminary,  
Freed from its genius tutelary  
Three little maids from school!  
Three little maids from school!

One little maid is a bride, Yum-Yum

Two little maids in attendance come

Three little maids is the total sum.

Three little maids from school!

From three little maids take one away

Two little maids remain, and they

Won't have to wait very long, they say-

Suddenly there was a loud crash. Police had broken down the door, and shouted "Raid!" Audience members leapt up and began to run around in a panic, screaming and shouting. The police, attempting to arrest the patrons, shoved some people near Matthew and Caitlin, and they were knocked to the floor. They heard a voice over their heads, coming from a curtain by the stage. "This way, follow me!"

They stumbled in the darkness backstage, and at last made their way to the stage door and out into the alley. They ran as fast as they could, away from the commotion. Caitlin, in her feminine attire would have had trouble getting away, but in Charlie's outfit, she was free to run at full speed. They continued to race through the streets and alleyways, long after they were in any danger. They finally stopped behind a building, panting and laughing.

When she caught her breath, she said, "Maybe that was a bit too private!"

"Can't run a business with police coming down around your ears!" They laughed and sighed with relief. He grew serious, and lifted Caitlin up, holding her against the wall with his body. "Do you remember when I found you like this?" They could hear a carriage approaching. At the last minute, before the carriage passed, he stepped back and let her down. "Let's go home."

On the way home, Caitlin found that in their "arousal game", she now had a distinct advantage. As they walked the streets to their apartment, she was able to make Matthew noticeably uncomfortable with a glance or a gesture. Finally, he just stopped playing. He just looked up and tried to pretend she wasn't there. Once he got her inside the apartment, buttons be damned, he had her stripped in a matter of minutes. He carried her into the bedroom. Their sex was explosive. They tapped a new well of passion, that seemed to have no bounds.

Afterwards, Caitlin lay on top of Matthew, happy and relaxed. He was stroking her back, running his fingers through her short hair.

Matthew said softly, "I want to tell you something."

"Hmm?"

"You're not going to like it."

"What have you done?"

"Nothing. Well, not yet."

"What is it?"

"I want to make an honest woman of you." Her stomach tightened. She sat up.

"No. I can't. You know I can't."

Normally, when she flashed anger, he would match her energy and fight back. Not this time. He held her gently, like she was a bird that might fly away. "Have I made any demands on you? Ever tried to stop you doing something you wanted to do, or made you do something you didn't?"

"No."

"And I never will. There's nothing to be afraid of darlin', it's just a piece of paper."

"Then why do you want to do it?"

"I want…" He gently pulled her down. "I want that little bit that you hold back."

She fretted. How could he ask this of her now? When he wanted to, he could be so gentle. She couldn't allow his "bedside manner" to ruin her resolve. "If I say no, do we go on as before?"

"Yes."

"Then no." He said nothing so she looked at him. "I never lied to you."

"I know." He kissed the top of her head. "I know. You didn't lie. I'll just say this; the offer stands. I know you don't want me to ask again, but it stands."

It was unforgivable for him to ask her for this. Not after all they'd been through. He knew that the thing she most feared was to be in a trap, a cage. How could he ask for the one thing she could never give?

She was afraid this would happen, but she expected him to get angry. She would have been prepared for that. She expected him to rail, to fight back, to slam the door. Then she could be done with him, once and for all. But he didn't get mad, and that touched her deeply.

Men don't make sacrifices? That was hard for him. _He wasn't trying to take something away from me. He was giving me a gift._

They made love again, but this time it was slow and melancholy, like they were saying goodbye to something, like they were trying to say something with their bodies that they couldn't say with words.


	10. Chapter 10

The next few weeks passed happily enough. They continued to take in all the sights that London had to offer, but they stopped fighting. Somehow the air had been cleared, and what was left was something tender, that neither one wanted to push too far.

One evening they went a show in Covent Garden. It had been a hot day, but the evening was cooling off, so they decided to walk. The streets were deserted. They heard a scream, and found a girl at the bottom of a stairway that separated two streets. There was a man at the top of the stairs, but he ran off as soon as he saw Caitlin and Matthew. The girl moaned. Matthew cradled her head in his lap. "You're going to be all right. You're safe now. We're going to take care of you." He looked at Caitlin. "I'd better go call a cab."

"Nonsense," she said. "You stay with her, I'll get one." They took her home and carried her up to the other bedroom. Her face was badly bruised, and her left forearm was broken. Matthew went to his room to get laudanum and a flat, wooden brace and gauze for her arm.

He pulled a chair up to the bed. Caitlin sat on the other side of the bed and began to gently wash the blood off her face. "What is your name?"

"Rose."

He gave her some of the laudanum. "Did you know that man?"

"His name is Eddie. He is a pimp. Not my pimp, but he wants me to work for him."

"Rose, your arm is broken. I need to set the bone. It's going to hurt." Rose nodded. He said to Caitlin, "I need you to hold her down." He took Rose's wrist in one hand, and her elbow in the other, and pulled. Rose passed out. He braced the arm and wrapped it. "There's nothing more we can do for her until morning." Caitlin got up and stood behind Matthew and kissed the top of his head.

"Is this your injured bird?"

He looked up at her. "Maybe."

Rose woke the next morning, sore, but in good spirits. Caitlin gave her a switchblade with a mother-of-pearl handle. "Rose, I want you to know how to protect yourself, in case something like this should ever happen again." Using Matthew as a model, she showed Rose all of the places where she could use her blade to incapacitate a man, to give herself a chance to run away. But, in case of mortal danger, she demonstrated the ways in which she could quickly and permanently dispatch her assailant, so he could never hurt her again.

"Don't show your knife until you have to. Surprise and speed are your strongest weapons. If you are facing the man, stab him in the eye, or the groin. If you can get behind him, you have a clear shot at his jugular, or his spine."

Matthew said, "Dare I ask how you come to know all this?"

"You forget, I was raised by Pinkertons."

Rose asked, "Who are they?"

Matthew raised his eyebrows. "They're the bogeyman."

Rose spent the next few days recuperating in the apartment. One morning, she was trying, unsuccessfully, to interest herself in a book. She found Matthew in his room, shaving.

"Good morning Rose. You look restless. I'm going out in a few minutes, do you feel up to taking a walk?"

"No, I shouldn't. You might think me vain, but I know I look a fright."

"Aw, come on Rose. Don't you know that scars are just tattoos with better stories?"

She giggled. "I like that. I'm going to remember that."

"Hopefully, you won't be getting any more scars to tell stories about."

"I know a man with tattoos. He is in the Royal Navy."

"Is that so?"

She sighed, and came in the room. She sat on the bed. "Tell me about Miss Susan."

"What do you want to know?"

"How did you meet?"

"We met in Chicago."

When he didn't continue, she asked, "Did you seduce her or did she seduce you?"

"I don't know. I guess it kind of snuck up on the both of us."

"Oh, that's the best! Then you know it's real!"

"What about you? Has anyone stolen Rose's heart?"

"Once."

"Well? Come on."

"I am an orphan. When I was twelve I was sent to work for a family. They let me go to school. They had four children. The youngest was a boy, my age. When school was out and I had finished my chores, we would play together. We climbed trees, went fishing in the lake, or just lay in the grass and let the sun warm our faces." Her face was turned up and her eyes were closed. "By and by, we fell in love." She looked at him. "He loved me."

"I believe you."

"Anyway, you know the rest of the story. The family would never allow such a match, so when I was sixteen, I came here."

"With a broken heart?"

"For a time. But I've got big plans, you know. I am going to be an actress. As soon as I have saved enough money, I'm going on the stage. Then, when I become a great star, he will come to see me in a play and fall in love with me all over again."

"No. He's a coward. He doesn't deserve you Rose." He wiped his face and put on his shirt and vest.

"What is America like?"

"Big."

"Have you been to the mountains?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Have you been to the desert?"

"Yup."

"Have you been to the ocean?"

"Girl, we didn't just fly here."

She threw herself back on the bed and laughed. "Have you ever met an Indian?"

"Sure. I lived with them for three months."

She popped back up. "Why?"

He showed her his eagle feather. "To learn their medicine." Their faces were close together now. Matthew stood up.

"Well, you'd best be on your way then, hmm?"

"Yeah, kid." He tipped his hat. "See you later."

The next day Caitlin announced that they were going to Rose's flat to get some of her things. It was a rundown flophouse, but Rose's room was clean and tidy. A young woman popped her head in the door and shouted, "Rose is back!" Soon four other girls crowded in to hug and kiss her. The first girl, Jenny, told her that Eddie had been skulking around since the night of the attack. "He thought he'd been seen by your friends, so he's been keeping out of sight. We told him that you were dead, and he'd better not try to bother any of us anymore."

Matthew and Caitlin gathered some of Rose's clothes, while she visited with the girls. When they returned to their own place, Caitlin said, "Captain Jackson is going to run along now, so Rose can get cleaned up."

Caitlin drew a bath for Rose, and helped her get undressed. "Miss Susan, you don't have to help me."

"You've still got blood in your hair, Rose. You can't very well wash it with a broken arm."

Once Caitlin had gotten Rose's hair clean, she took a sponge and scrubbed her back. "How long have you been doing this kind of work?"

"Two years."

"And how have you managed to avoid people like Eddie?"

"My friends and I look out for each other. Working for a pimp is bad, but going into a whorehouse is even worse. They take all the girl's money, and get them hooked on dope, so they couldn't get out even if they wanted to. Me and my friends, we just have our own regulars, just men we know and trust. We can't charge as much as the brothels, but we get to keep everything we make. We don't walk the streets. We just try to keep out of everyone else's way."

"But it doesn't always work out that way, does it?"

Rose shrugged her shoulders.

"Captain Jackson tells me you want to go on the stage. I toyed with the idea of opening a theater myself, you know." She told Rose about the play on the ship. When she described the songs, Rose sang "My Evening Star" for her. Rose's voice was pretty, nothing like Miss Guthrie's cultured voice, but Rose sang with a sultry sensuality. The song took on a whole different meaning when Rose sang it.

When from out the shades of night  
Come the stars a-shining bright  
I spy the one I do love  
I recognize my true love  
Beneath the tiny orbs of light

Search the sky from east to west  
She's the brightest and the best  
But she's so far above me  
I know she cannot love me  
Still I love her and more than all the rest

My evening star, I wonder who you are  
Set up so high, like a diamond in the sky  
No matter what I do, I can't go up to you  
So come down from there, my evening star  
Come down, come down  
Come down from there, my evening star.

"I wish you would let me pay you back for helping me. You know, I could invite a few of my regulars up here. I could turn a few tricks and give you the money."

Matthew returned around suppertime. He found Caitlin making notes in the sitting room, smiling, in deep concentration. "You look like the cat that got the canary."

"I know what I'm going to do."

Before he could respond there was a knock at the door. She held up her finger, and went to answer it. A man came in. He gave Caitlin some money, and walked past Matthew.

"Good evening."

"Evening."

The man went up to Rose's room.

Caitlin smiled and let it sink in. Matthew was at a loss for words. He laughed. "So, this is your big idea? You're going to run whores."

"No, I am going to open a private club. I plan to employ women, and pay them a fair wage. I will give them a safe home, free from violence and drugs. No men will be accepted as members without references. Absolutely no Pinkertons."

Caitlin had never in her life gotten drunk, but this was a night for celebration. She and Rose and Matthew went out that night to toast their new partnership. Each bottle of champagne went down sweeter than the last. They returned to the apartment, high and happy. They went into Matthew and Caitlin's room. He flopped on the bed, and Caitlin sat at her vanity, removing her jewelry while Rose hummed a tune.

Caitlin said, "Rose, I think I need to let you in on my little secret." She took her wig off. Rose squealed with delight, and started to fluff up Caitlin's short hair. She sat next to Caitlin on the bench, and soon her playful roughhousing turned to a gentle caress. Caitlin closed her eyes. Rose kissed her. She opened her eyes and looked at Rose. Perhaps she should have stopped her, but it felt good. Rose's mouth was soft and sensual, not like a man's at all. They kissed again, and Rose began to remove Caitlin's dress. Caitlin looked over at Matthew, and held out her hand.

Later, Caitlin lay back on the bed, satiated and happy. She lazily looked over at the other two making love. Suddenly, she was overcome with a cold feeling. She slipped out of the bed, unnoticed by the others. She put on her robe and went down to the sitting room.

Caitlin paced the room, trying to understand why she was so upset. Seeing him make love to another woman gave her a pain that took her by surprise. This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to love him like this. She tried hard to master her thoughts.

_Now what do I do? Tell him he can't be with other women, he can only be faithful to me?_ She laughed. _I'm about to open up a brothel. Everybody has husbands, wives, lovers. If fidelity was important or even necessary, there wouldn't be any brothels. What an old-fashioned notion. How can I hold him to that? I don't even believe in it myself. What a hypocrite I am. No, I can't hold him to that._

_So what do I do? Send him away? No, I can't do that either. What's the matter with me? How could I have let this happen? I was supposed to be the one in control. I wasn't going to get hurt. But it does hurt._

_And what of Rose? Beautiful Rose. She is so warm, so open. Even I'm attracted to her, what man wouldn't be? If he was going to be with another woman, I would want it to be someone like Rose._

_So is that it? We go on?_ She took a deep breath. _ I'm strong. I've endured worse than this, haven't I? No. _

She thought of her father. She felt her strength return to her. _'Don't let emotions rule your life. If your opponent is strong, you have to be stronger.' Who is my opponent? Myself?_

She felt calmer now. _I am strong. I have my work. We go on._

Matthew woke up with a sore head and a dry mouth. He opened up one eye, then the events of the previous evening came into focus. He was alone in the room, in fact the whole apartment was empty. He got dressed and went down into the sitting room.

Rose came in the door, humming a tune. She put her arms around Matthew's neck and kissed him. He was in something of a quandary as to whether he should encourage the girl, but considering the past evening, he thought it a bit late to close that particular barn door. She noticed his consternation, and laughed. "You're a funny American." She headed up to her room.

"Rose, where's Susan?"

"She's making preparations for our 'business meeting.' We are having my friends over in half an hour."

"Oh."

A few minutes later, Caitlin came in with a package from the bakery. She filled the tea kettle and set it on the range to boil. Then she started setting the cakes and cookies on a plate. She didn't seem to regard Matthew at all. He said, "How are you this morning?"

"I'm well. And it's afternoon."

"Oh."

She walked past him to the bedroom, where she removed her jacket and hat. He followed, hoping to find some way to broach the topic of the previous night. "Last night, we were all pretty drunk."

She smiled. "I really have to get ready." She went out into the kitchen, and took down the cups and saucers.

He made another attempt. "What happened, that's not likely to ever happen again."

"Don't be silly. Why shouldn't it?"

"I'm sorry, I'm having trouble keeping up here. I'd like to talk to you."

"I am meeting with Rose's friends in a few minutes. Afterwards, Rose and I are going to go and see a hotel in Whitechapel that's for sale."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"That won't be necessary. Perhaps we can talk tonight."

He stopped her as she moved past. "I don't want things to change."

She seemed wistful. "But things do change, don't they? Whether we want them to or not." She kissed him. "Now I really must get ready."

They didn't talk that night. For the next several days, Caitlin and Rose were busy making preparations to open the hotel. Matthew kept to himself, staying out late and going out early. One night he stumbled in, drunk, bruised and bloody, and knocked some dishes on the floor with a crash. Caitlin was angry.

"Where have you been?"

"Where do you think?"

"I don't know, that's why I asked."

"Playing cards, that's all."

"I was worried you were dead in an alley somewhere."

"Well, if I was dead, you wouldn't have anything to worry about, now would you?" He collapsed in a chair.

"You're bleeding." She got a cloth and started to tend to his injuries. "What happened?"

"I accidentally hit somebody's fist with my face."

"I thought you were going to be careful. What's the matter with you?"

He grabbed her wrist, not gently. "What's the matter with you? You've been cold to me ever since…" She pulled away from him. Well, if they were going to have it out, now was as good a time as any. "Are you jealous of her?"

"No. I'm not. I like Rose."

"Then what is it?"

"The only way I would be jealous of Rose is if I thought you were in love with her."

He sighed loudly. "No chance of that. You… pain me, but it's too late to worry about that now. This is a yoke I can't shake off. I'm not in love with her, I'm in love with you. Goddamn it."

She returned to cleaning his face, and after a long while, she spoke. "I thought I could control this. I thought I could love you without getting hurt, but I can't."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I love you. And I will never forgive you for that. If that offer is still on the table, I accept."

He pulled her down into his lap and held her. And so began their uneasy life together.


	11. Chapter 11

Two weeks on, the club was not running as smoothly as Caitlin would have hoped. She started out with a good business plan. The hotel could accommodate 10 girls, who, if they could turn two tricks a night each, Caitlin thought could cover all their costs, plus a small profit. Rose and her friends made six, so Caitlin began to interview new girls to get the club up to speed.

The trouble was, Caitlin was not sure how to interview girls to fill the remaining four positions. She tried to focus on skills, but her own experience with prostitution was nil, so she had to trust that any girl who was working professionally would know her own abilities, so best not to inquire too much further on the subject of talents. She asked them to describe their own "earning potential," based on their past experience. Her interview technique might have worked better if she was hiring bank tellers, with easily defined job descriptions and performance expectations.

She had no idea in the beginning of the importance of personality. Knowing how to attract and please a man had nothing whatsoever to do with the ability to get along with a house full of women. All of the girls were essentially "free agents" up to this point, used to setting their own hours, choosing their own clients, and never, ever poaching clients from other working girls. The limitation on privacy created friction, and the atmosphere remained tense. Caitlin knew how to dictate, but what she really needed to do was manage. These girls needed leadership, and try as she might, she was overwhelmed.

Caitlin was perhaps two years older than her oldest girls, and even the youngest had vastly more experience than she in this new world. Rose was able to help to motivate her own friends, but the new girls were unfamiliar, and regarded cooly by the rest.

Matthew's presence was surprisingly calming to the group. They all seemed to like his relaxed style, so even if they mistrusted one another, he seemed to keep things on an even keel. His "duties" around the house consisted of providing health care to the girls as needed. This took place in the mornings, and most days there was nothing for him to do at all. He would invariably wander off at some point, and find his own amusements in town.

Building up a membership of clients was also proving to be a challenge. Many of the girls brought their own regulars along. They seemed to appreciate the clean, elegant surroundings, but word of mouth was slow going. She knew that in order to attract the kind of customers that could bring prestige to the operation, she would have to be patient. So business was slow, which led to more tension.

Most of the squabbles among the girls were really quite petty, and did not amount to anything more than establishing boundaries and trying to get to know one another, but to Caitlin, every spat seemed like a setback. Had she grown up with a house full of sisters, she might have been able to recognize that some friction was natural, and most of the trouble would eventually smooth out.

One Saturday evening, there was a "full house" of customers, which should have buoyed the spirits of the group, but two of the girls told Caitlin that they were sick and couldn't take their regular clients. When those men were entertained by other girls, all hell broke loose. Caitlin had no choice but to turn the men away, and ask them to return when the girls were feeling better. The trouble was, she had no idea what was wrong with the girls. Was it something infectious, could it be passed on to the other girls, or indeed to the customers? Were they actually sick at all, or just frustrated by their situation? Having a doctor on hand would sure be a big help, but Matthew was nowhere to be found.

He stumbled in around midnight, after a night of heavy drinking. One man was dozing on a couch, presumably waiting for one of the girls to come down to get him, and the remaining clients were engaged, so the place was relatively quiet. Caitlin was in a fury. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Don't start."

"This is a place of business, _captain._ The next time you want to show up drunk during business hours, you will come in through the servant's entrance."

Matthew stopped. His back was to Caitlin, and he slowly turned. He said nothing, went up to his room and slammed the door.

She went to her room, considered slamming her own door, but couldn't even sustain the notion. For once in her life, she felt drained, confused, and alone. She gave in to tears, and finally drifted off to a fitful sleep.

Rose knocked quietly on Matthew's door. He grunted, so she came in. He had flopped on the bed, still fuming from his encounter with Caitlin. Without words, Rose straddled him and kissed him. He could have resisted, but it was too easy to just let her do what they both wanted.

Neither Matthew nor Caitlin rested well that night. For once, he was awake and dressed when he heard a knock on his door the following morning. Caitlin brought him the two sick girls. One was Rose's friend, Jenny, and the other was one of the new girls, Tilda. All three of the women were subdued, not wishing to relive the crisis of the previous evening. Caitlin left the girls with him.

"Well, Jenny, what is the problem with you?"

She groaned. "Itching and burning."

"Ah. Have you had this before?"

"Yes."

"What did you do for it before?"

"Nothing."

"Well, I think I can do better than 'nothing.' I'll give you a poultice to put on twice a day. No sex for ten days." Jenny and Tilda exchanged looks. He continued, "Hand jobs and blow jobs, OK, just no sex."

He turned to Tilda. "What's going on with you?"

"It hurts to pee."

"Aw, honey, I'm sorry about that. I have some tea I can give you. I have to apologize ahead of time it tastes like shit, but it should help. And I need you to drink eight to ten glasses of water every day."

"I can't—it hurts!"

"I know, honey, but if you don't it will only hurt worse. You don't want it to hurt worse, do you?" She shook her head. "It's going to be bad for a couple of days. No sex for you either."

"Days?"

He pulled her head in to his chest. "I know kid, I'm sorry."

"She's going to kick us out."

"No. No. I'll talk to her." He was not at all sure she would be receptive, but he would have to try.

He prepared their medicine, and as they were leaving he said, "If you see Rose, would you ask her to come in?" She came in moments later. He sat her down on the daybed.

"Why did you come in here last night Rose?"

"Am I in trouble?"

"No."

"I felt like you needed company." Pause. "She don't mind, she told me."

"What do you want though, Rose?"

She copied his accent. "I want to be with you when you want, and not when you don't."

He laughed. "Is that all?"

"Yup."

He rubbed his chin. "Rose, I don't know."

Unperturbed, she stood and said, "You don't have to decide right now."

He shook his head. "All right, go on now." He headed down to find Caitlin, bracing himself for another fight. He found her in her office.

"How are they?"

"They both have infections."

"Are they contagious?"

"What Jenny's got, there's a small chance she could pass it on to a partner. I told her no sex for ten days."

"What?"

"Hon, haven't you ever had one of these things?"

"No."

"Well, it is very uncomfortable."

"How is Tilda?"

"Tilda has a bladder infection."

"Can you help her?"

"Yes. I'll put her through a course of treatment. Hopefully we can catch it before it goes to her kidneys. We'll be in trouble if that happens. But I think we can get her through."

"Is there any way to prevent this?"

"Sure, we can show them how to keep themselves clean and healthy. I can talk to them."

"Would you?"

"Right now? Sure."

Caitlin gathered the girls together in the sitting room. She thought she might as well get everyone together, since she may need to tell them that she is shutting the place down. Jenny and Tilda came down arm in arm, bonded in their misery.

When everyone was settled, Matthew began, "Well, we have two pretty sick girls here, and we need to help them get better. You can't catch it from them, but you can get it. Did you know that the American Indians believe that women get these infections in times of terrible strife for their people?" He let that sink in. "This place that we live in, it's a pretty good deal. Hot water, clean laundry, good food. Time. Do any of you read?" A few of the girls raised their hands. "These girls are going to be pretty miserable for the next couple of days, why don't you read to them? You'll boost their spirits and help the time go by. Meanwhile, there are lots of things you can do to keep your bodies clean and healthy." He went over the list of proper hygiene practices, and by the time he was finished, everyone was laughing. Even Caitlin almost cried with relief.

The meeting broke up and the girls returned to their morning chores, leaving Matthew and Caitlin somewhat hesitant with each other. Finally she said quietly, "Come upstairs with me."

He rolled his eyes heavenward and said to himself, "Take it like a man, son." He followed her into her room and she closed the door.

"I think I'll have to start calling you Reverend Jackson, after that miracle you just pulled off. I was getting ready to tell the girls that I would have to shut the place down, but you just turned everything around. What would have happened to Jenny and Tilda if they weren't here?"

"I imagine they would go hungry for a while. Unless they had some other way of making money."

She was having trouble keeping her emotions in check. "You scared me. Last night. That's why I got so angry. When you drink like that, I have no idea what you are going to do. One of these days, you are going to find yourself across the table from one of my father's men. I don't want you to be like that when it happens."

"They are never going to find us here."

"Even so, I need you to act as if they could."

"You're right. You're right."

"Also..." She wanted very much to feel close to him, but found the words failed her. She moved in close and put her hand on his chest. He covered it with his own, acknowledging what she was trying to say.

"Honey, you don't have to ask. All you need to do is nod and point and say 'now.'" She threw her arms around his neck and they made love. Afterwards, she finally felt calm, although a few tears were shed.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No." She laughed softly. "It just doesn't seem fair. I could never make you feel the way you just made me feel."

"Darling, don't you know it doesn't work like that? I like sex. Hell, I love sex, but with you it is something different. When you touch me, I feel like you are tugging on my soul. I can't ask for anything better than that. Unless it's that you tell me that it will happen again, and again. And even if it doesn't, I'll die a happy man. So don't tell me about fair."

She stroked the outlines of his face, as if she had never really seen it before. "You don't have to ask me either, you know."

"Hmm. I never thought of it like that."

"Why not?"

"Because it's a 'given' that I want you."

"No it isn't. There are any number of reasons you wouldn't want to be with me. You like Rose."

He groaned. "Please, can we not talk about Rose?"

"You like her. That is a 'given.' It's just sex. It's simple, uncomplicated. It's a 'given.' But this? This is not simple. This is the hardest thing I have ever done. So if you really feel like you say you do, it is not a 'given.'"

He thought that over. "Can I remind you of this conversation some day when you are mad at me?"

"You can try." Pause. "Captain Jackson?"

"Mmm?"

"Now."

Things began to run more smoothly at the club after that day. The girls got through their sickness, and everyone found they enjoyed their reading time. The ones who couldn't read before were learning, and the ones who knew how found that being able to just sit and read a book was a luxury they could not afford before, when every waking moment was bent on survival. They grew close, and stuck by each other. There was the occasional dust up, but it was always minor and easily resolved.

Caitlin was glad they were getting along so well, but she couldn't join in. She had too many balls to keep juggling, trying to keep the ship afloat. The business looked like it could be a success. This was all she had hoped for. All the risks they took, the pipers that had to be paid, this is what it was all for.

Her relationship with Matthew continued to be mercurial. They fought like cats and dogs, but other times were spectacular. It was the '"in-between" times when she often felt lonely. But being lonely was not the same as being alone, and right now, this was all she could hope for.


End file.
